The Weekends
by CrimsonShepard
Summary: A series of one shots involving weekends. Everybody Finds Out 'verse! AU. Jibbs.
1. The Birthday

The redhead couldn't take the smile off her face as she approached the familiar Georgetown house. It was just as it had always been, pristine and historic. She couldn't see anyone through the windows, but there was a sense of comfort in the knowledge that those she loved dearest were inside. Her flight from LaGuardia to Reagan had been on time and not too much of a hassle. The taxi driver had been another story, however. The driver had tried to take the long way around. That was all irrelevant now; she was home. She paid the cab fare and stepped out of the vehicle, sighing contentedly into the September night. A light breezed carried through the air, nipping gently at her exposed skin and causing her red locks to blow ever so gently like a fire catching. The woman carried her suitcases to the door and dropped them on the doorstep with a light clatter of wheels hitting stone. She wanted out of her heels, work attire, and a large glass of red wine.

Moments later, she was inside the townhouse, deeply breathing in the familiar scents of vanilla, ginger, and cinnamon. She knew it was a vanilla chai scented Yankee Candle. Some parts of home never changed. "Mom," she called out, listening for the sound of footsteps rushing to greet her.

Her mother came into the foyer and hugged her daughter tightly, relishing in the fact that she was home and safe. "I missed you so much," Jenny said, kissing her eldest's cheek.

"Where's daddy?"

"Your father -" But the explanation was interrupted.

_Jenny, I got your number. I need to make you mine. Jenny, don't change your number._

Katie's eyebrows rose in surprise as she heard her father's boisterous singing. The older redhead rolled her eyes and looked at her daughter. None of his team would believe that the man currently singing at the top of his lungs was their fearless leader. They would have thought aliens had abducted him. "Has discovered the iPod," Jenny finished.

"Abby?" the younger woman asked.

Jenny nodded her head. The forensic scientist had given Jethro an iPod for his birthday, and he shocked everyone by actually using it.

"Katie!" Gibbs shouted and strolled to his wife and child. "When did you get in?" he asked, speaking loudly with the ear buds firmly planted in his ears.

"You're yelling, Jethro," his wife scolded.

"WHAT?"

Katharine put her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter. She'd missed her parents' antics. At times, Katie hated living in New York and being so busy she wasn't able to return home except on special occasions. She always felt like she was missing out on so much of her parents' lives and her sister's life. Of course, they were missing out on her life too. Phone calls and video chats were not the same as physically being there. Jenny snatched the ear buds out of her husband's ears and glared at him. "Jethro, what have I told you? If you can't hear yourself speaking, the volume is too loud."

"Well, Jen, I don't know how to change the volume," he answered, sounding like a bratty teenager. "I just know how to hit play and turn it off."

His wife threw her hands up in despair and walked away from him. Jethro smirked. He held the iPod up to his face, eyes squinting and brows knitting. He fumbled with the music device, trying to figure out where the button for the volume was located. His shoulders soon slumped in defeat; he couldn't find the damn volume control.

Katie laughed and hugged her father. "I got in about five minutes ago. Happy Birthday in person this time," she told him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you." Gibbs slipped an arm around her waist as he walked towards the kitchen with her. He noticed the power stilettos and black fit and flare dress she had on. She truly was her mother's daughter. "What did you do? Leave straight from work and go to the airport, Jen Jr.?"

"Of course, I couldn't miss this weekend."

"Is something special going on?"

She hit his shoulder playfully and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I've heard this badass silver haired NCIS agent is turning fifty-five, but don't tell anyone."

"Secret's safe with me," he replied with a wink.

"While we're sharing secrets, Daddy, you're no Tommy Tutone."

He grinned. "I know, but you know how much your mom loves that song."

"I _hate_ that song," Jenny spoke as they entered the kitchen, inviting herself into the father and daughter conversation. She noticed Katie retrieving a bottle of merlot and a glass.

"C'mon, Jen. You know you love it," Gibbs stated, looking over at his wife. Jenny still took his breath away even as she simply stood barefoot in the kitchen. He stared at the red polish on her toes and admired how her jeans hugged her thighs. Jethro grinned, deciding to take the opportunity to provoke her fully. He never tired of how those green eyes would blaze with fire at him.

"I've never put my number on a wall, and I'm worth much more than the price of a dime," she told him smartly and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

Gibbs shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans and retrieved a quarter, holding it up smugly. "How 'bout a quarter, Jen?" He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't help himself.

Her green eyes flashed as she pursed her lips, scowling at him. "Jackass," she mumbled under her breath. "Jethro, no," Jenny said as her husband stepped nearer to her. The redhead knew exactly what he was planning. She shook her head and pushed him away. "No sir," she said firmly, shaking her finger at him primly.

Her husband grinned wickedly and enclosed her in his arms, leaning in and nibbling her neck. "What did you say? I didn't hear you, Jen," Gibbs teased and slipped the twenty-five cents into her pocket.

She giggled and pushed at him. "Jethro!" Their eyes caught. She tried to keep the annoyed façade in play, but those blue eyes never failed to make her knees buckle. Both had forgotten about Katharine in the room.

"Okay, I'm going upstairs and unpacking!" Katie announced hastily and left the kitchen, the noise of her heels echoing through the home as she retreated upstairs.

He held onto her tightly by the waist and began tickling her. She bucked and tried to wriggle away from him. Her laughter swiftly filled the air. "I hate you! Jethro, stop!"

Gibbs laughed and let her go. When she went to move away, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him. "Twenty-five cent kiss? Please?" Jethro whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her ivory skin.

Jenny turned to face him, and he kissed her softly. She stroked his cheek and smiled at him as she pulled away. "Will you let me go now?"

"Nope."

"Well, nothing will be ready for poker night. Maybe the food isn't burned."

"I don't care," he answered, nuzzling her. His arm was still around her waist.

"The others will."

He smirked and let her go. Friday nights had become poker night for him, Ducky, Tony, and McGee. There would be an addition to tonight's game, Jenny. He hoped she wouldn't clean house; she was a mean poker player. Years ago, Jethro had learned the hard way about her poker skills. He whistled for Cooper and took the German shepherd for a walk while Jenny continued cooking and making snacks for game night.

In Gibbs' absence, Elizabeth and Tony entered the house. Elizabeth removed the floral scarf from around her neck. ""It's not funny, Tony," she commented, elbowing her husband in the ribs to stop his laughter. The pain in his ribs didn't manage to shut him up.

"Liz, four arms? It is a little funny." He laughed harder. Tony straightened when she elbowed him a second time. "Okay, it's not," he replied, turning serious and rubbing his ribcage. "Liz, I think you might have broken something," he mumbled, pulling up his shirt to assess the damage.

Her blue green eyes flared at him, and Tony sheepishly pulled his shirt down. "I'll live. No worries."

She shook her head at him, and looked at her phone as it went off, reading the text message. _Where are you? Hurry up! I want to see my sister! I'll be in my room._ "Katie's upstairs."

Tony sniffed the air and smelled marinara sauce. Yes, Jenny had made homemade pizzas. "I'll be in the kitchen. Hey Liz," he said as she walked away. "Don't get too crazy tonight."

"Like I can," she retorted and headed up the stairs. Lizzie wandered into her sister's old bedroom while Tony ventured into the kitchen to see how much he could snack before his mother-in-law threw him out. "Hey," she greeted her twin. Lizzie was silently amused at how easily they fell into their old roles whenever one of them stayed at home.

Katie walked out of the ensuite bathroom and stared at her sister. "Oh my God, Elizabeth!"

"What? she asked, shifting her stance uncomfortably. Lizzie prepared herself for what Katie might say to her. Her twin had no filter most of the time; she had received that trait from her father

"I know we've skyped, but _oh my God_," Katie stepped closer to her sister and stared at her middle. "Look at you! _Oh my God! _When did that happen? _Oh my God!_"

Lizzie laughed softly at her sister's lack of high dollar lawyer vocabulary and shrugged her shoulders. "It snuck up on me," she replied. She was halfway through her first pregnancy. "Maybe a week ago. I'm in the definitely looking pregnant stage instead of looking like I've spent too much time with Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia," she said, sitting down on the bed to take the weight off her feet. She couldn't get used to the extra weight.

"How've you been feeling? Any better?" Katie questioned as she remained standing. "No heels tonight?

"I'm starting to enjoy it," Lizzie answered, proud of herself for surviving the sickness of the first trimester "No heels. I don't want puffy feet and an achy back in a few hours. Is my outfit that terrible?" she inquired, glancing over herself. Elizabeth had chosen black slim leg pants, black suede wedge heeled booties, a simple silk jersey three quarter sleeve tunic in plum.

"Lizzie, you look amazing. I might break into your house and steal that top."

Elizabeth smiled at her sister. "Anyway, you'll love hearing about this."

"Tell me!" Katie picked up her wine glass, sipping. She rummaged through her suitcase and found nothing she wanted to wear to for the night. The redhead decided to stay in the dress she'd worn to work.

"I swear every single appointment that involves an ultrasound Tony thinks another baby is going to pop up."

"You married an idiot. You know that…don't you?"

Lizzie pinched her sister's arm as she sat down next to her. Despite Tony's idiocy from time to time, Elizabeth loved him. Katie knew he was a good man but how her sister put up with him was a mystery to her. She pinched her sister back and looked at her seriously. "I know you know. Why haven't you told me?" Katharine pried.

"It's part of Daddy's birthday present."

She moved to the door and looked up and down the hallway before theatrically shutting the door. "Coast is clear." Katie flopped back onto the bed and turned to her sibling. "You have to tell me! Niece or nephew."

Elizabeth smiled at the massive, hundred watt grin that made itself at home on her sister's face. "Wait," she told her, smiling even more. She took Katie's hand, placing it on the baby bump. Katie didn't move a muscle or bat an eyelash as she waited. Her eyes turned into saucers as she pulled her hand away, but she put it right back, laughing at herself.

"That's your nephew doing somersaults."

She squealed and hugged her sister tightly. "Daddy's going to be over the moon! A grandson…he's going to have a field day, Lizzie."

"I know."

"Have you told mom?"

"I haven't, but I think she knows."

Katie rolled her eyes and stood up, pulling Elizabeth up. "What doesn't mom know?"

It was true. Nothing ever seemed to take their mother by surprise. Somehow, she knew everything in advance more so than their father. The sisters touched up their make-up and chatted nonstop until they left the bedroom. Lizzie had made dinner reservations for 9 o'clock. She looped her arm with Katie's and nudged her. "Are you going to avoid Tim this weekend?"

She didn't answer and attempted to change the subject. McGee was not a topic she wanted to be discussed. "Are Abby and Ziva meeting us at the restaurant?"

"Yes. I'll take you ignoring the question as a yes."

"Shut up, Lizzie," she replied with a lighthearted tone yet there were serious undertones.

"He's coming tonight."

"When in the hell did he start playing poker? Mom's going to rake him over the coals."

"Everyone does. He has _no_ poker face."

Katie smirked; that was the truth. At the bottom of the stairs, she greeted Cooper. The dog followed the girls into the kitchen. Lizzie laughed as her mother smacked Tony's hand. He kept picking pepperoni and sausage off the pizza in front of him.

"Tony, I'm ten seconds away from banning you from my kitchen," Jenny told him sharply.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded guiltily and smiled at his wife as she pulled him out of the line of fire. He glanced to his sister-in-law. "Glad you could make it, Miss Fancy New Yorker."

"Shut up and give me a hug," Katie said and hugged her brother-in-law.

DiNozzo returned the hug, giving her a squeeze. "I forgive you for not coming to my birthday party."

Katie smacked him in the back of his head – Gibbs style. She had apologized a thousand times for that weekend in July. It was another instance when work had pushed its way in and had pushed family out of the way.

Elizabeth took a pepperoni off one of the pizzas, and Tony noticed his mother-in-law said not a word. "Hey! Pepperoni stealer here," he said, putting his arms around his wife. "I caught her. Get her, Jenny."

Jenny rolled her eyes good-naturedly, shaking her head. Lizzie giggled at her husband's childish ways and stuck her tongue out at her husband. "She loves me more than you."

"Obviously," he mumbled and kissed Elizabeth's neck.

She leaned back into her husband's arms and looked at her mother. "You should go to dinner with us."

"Your father is finally letting me in on a game of poker. It may never happen again."

"It wasn't fair, Jen. You asked me in a weak moment," Gibbs spoke as he came into the kitchen. He took a beer out of the fridge and popped it open with a smirk on his face. He noticed the smile dripping with pride on his wife's face.

"A weak moment?" Tony questioned. Gibbs had weak moments?

"Yeah, DiNozzo. She asked me during sex," he replied, deadpan.

Tony looked like he'd swallowed a bitter pill, and Lizzie put her hands over her face. Katie cringed. She knew her parents had sex, but she didn't want to hear it. Jenny cackled at the looks on everyone's faces and hit Jethro's shoulder. He put an arm around her as she buried her face into his shoulder – the smell of coffee and sawdust assaulted her senses.

"Time to go," Katie spoke and glimpsed at her sister. It was definitely time to leave before her parents said something else that would scar them all for life.

Elizabeth nodded. She didn't want to hear any more about her mother's persuasion in the bedroom, and she turned in Tony's arms. "Have fun with game night," she said, kissing him.

Tony returned the kiss and kept his arms around her waist, rubbing the small of her back. He looked at his sister-in-law. "You know you're keeping my wife out past her bedtime. Nothing crazy tonight. No dancing on tables."

"I'll take good care of the little mother," Katie answered and walked out of the kitchen, taking her Elizabeth with her. "Bye grandma!"

Jethro laughed out loud then doubled over when his wife socked him in the stomach. "That's enough, grandpa," she told him. Jenny was excited but hadn't quite adjusted to the idea of being a grandmother especially since fifty was around the corner for her. It made her feel ancient like she needed to have gray hair, trade in her stilettos for orthopedic shoes, and burn all of her knee length skirts.

As soon as Katie opened the front door, there was McGee standing in front of her, frozen in mid knock. "Hey Katie," he spoke, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hey Tim," she greeted, wincing. Why did he have to be arriving when they were leaving? She had been so close to not seeing him on her first night back in town.

"I didn't think you were coming this weekend. How long are you here?"

"I'm catching a flight back Monday morning."

"Great. Maybe we could…if you have time…maybe we could go out. Dinner. A movie. I'd love to catch up."

"Yeah, of course. We have dinner reservations. We're running late," Katie lied and muffled a groan when Lizzie purposely stepped on her foot. She didn't care what her sister thought; she was too busy trying to escape from Timothy McGee.

McGee nodded in understanding. He smiled at Elizabeth as she gently squeezed his arm as she passed by him. Tim stood on the doorstep, staring at Katie walk away. Tony clapped him on his back.

"McLovesick, you need to get over her."

He knew DiNozzo was right, but he hadn't been able to get over Katharine Gibbs. He didn't know how he could. She was intelligent, a mild computer geek, and successful. She made him weak in the knees. He'd never met a woman so mysterious and alluring. He thought they could be something, but she wouldn't give him the chance.

In the car, Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest and stared her sister down. "Katie, I think you should…"

"Do not start, Lizzie. Do not go there," she warned and turned the car onto the street. The older twin was concentrating harder than usual on the road and trying not to look back at the man standing on her porch looking like a lost puppy.

"You should give him a chance. He's a good guy."

"I slept with him! That was it! Who doesn't hook up with someone at a wedding? It was two years ago for God's sake!"

"You went to dinner with him three times after that. Also, I believe you took him to New York when you were apartment hunting."

Katie rolled her eyes. She felt awful about how she had handled McGee. The redhead hadn't meant to lead him on, but she unfortunately had. When Tim showed up out of the blue at her apartment with a dozen red roses, she knew he hadn't understood her wanting them to be friends with benefits.

"One day, you're going to have to stop leaving a trail of broken hearts, Katie."

"It's better than having mine broken."

Lizzie sighed and adjusted the air conditioning. "Katie, you have to put Liam behind you. He'd want you to be happy. It's been seven years."

She felt the lump in her throat and swallowed hard. Lizzie just had to say his name, Liam. The boy she'd fallen madly in love at sixteen while attending Sevenoaks School in Kent. Katharine had given her whole heart and herself completely to him, but he died tragically in a horseback riding accident days after their second anniversary. Katie had built walls and closed herself up after Liam's death and vowed to never get hurt again. She held her hand up and gave her sister a fleeting look. "Discussion over. I want to have a good night."

Elizabeth sighed heavily and looked out the window. She wanted her sister to be happy and to stop harboring the trauma of the last time her heart was shattered. She turned her head and stared at Katharine. Lizzie reached over and squeezed her sister's hand. She couldn't imagine the pain she'd felt then and still felt. The two were silent for the rest of the drive but were chatterboxes during dinner with Ziva and Abby. They didn't stay out too late since tomorrow was Gibbs' birthday party, and Lizzie had started losing the battle with sleep around 11 o'clock.

On Saturday morning, Gibbs walked outside with Cooper on his leash. He stopped dead in his tracks and stormed back into the house, yelling. "Jenny!"

"I'm right here," she answered from the doorway of the study, holding a fresh cup of coffee and wearing his robe.

"Where the hell's my truck?"

Jenny shrugged her shoulders and casually walked into the study, sitting down at the desk.

"Jenny, where is my truck?" he repeated with a growl. He grew more annoyed when she didn't say a word and put her glasses on. "Jen!"

She looked up at him when he came into the room. "Yes?" she questioned sweetly.

"What did you do to my truck?"

"I did not do anything to your precious truck, and you shouldn't accuse me first thing in the morning, Jethro," she stated, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

Gibbs looked up at the ceiling and put his arms at his sides, exasperated. He saw her right eye twitch. The man never understood why she always tried to lie to him when she knew damn well he would know if she was – he'd always been able to read her like a book. "Jen."

"I let Tony borrow it."

"JENNY!" he bellowed as his mind flashed with images of his truck coming back in pieces.

She rolled her green eyes at his dramatics, desperately trying not to burst into laughter. "It'll be back this afternoon."

He muttered and grumbled as he left the study, unhappily leaving the house and going for a jog with Cooper. Jenny smirked and took a sip of her coffee. She knew he'd be happy when he discovered why his beloved Ford truck was missing in action. The interior was being reupholstered, and there was a wrapped Shopsmith 10ER on the back of the truck. She dealt with a moping and nagging Jethro until everyone arrived for his birthday cookout. Tony snuck the truck into the yard while Gibbs manned the grill.

The team joked and told stories as they sat outside. They eagerly listened to Jackson tells stories from Jethro's youth. All tried to imagine the man as a child. Gibbs sipped his bourbon and passed the bottle to Katie. In true Gibbs fashion, she'd adopted the alcohol as her poison of preference She refilled her tumbler and tried to ignore McGee gazing at her. Jenny disappeared into the kitchen to start on the elote. Elizabeth followed her mother. Jenny glanced behind her and smiled at her daughter as she took a bottle of water from the fridge.

Lizzie opened the bottle of water and took a long drink. She put a hand on her lower back and groaned softly.

"Lizzie?" her mother asked, concern flooding her voice.

"I'm tired of stretching. I burst into tears over an infomercial for Proactiv this morning."

Jenny chuckled softly, remembering the feelings she had dealt with when she was carrying Elizabeth and Katharine all those years ago. "I hate to tell you, but you'll be doing a lot more of that," she told her as she began washing the shucked ears of corn.

"I know," Lizzie replied, washing her hands. "I feel like my body isn't my body anymore, and I want to strangle Tony half the time. I know it's only going to get worse."

Jenny listened to her daughter and didn't interrupt. It was healthy for Elizabeth to vent her frustrations and concerns.

"Mom, he wants to go to prenatal yoga with me," Lizzie told her. She'd been doing yoga for years but had switched classes when she found out she was expecting.

"Tony wants to go with you to prenatal yoga," she repeated, letting it sink in before she burst into laughter. Once Jenny stopped laughing, she shook her head and let a smirk settle on her features. "Let him go. He'll hate it."

"I could always tell him to go to yoga with you before work," Lizzie teased. She took the grater out of the cabinet and the cotija cheese out of the refrigerator.

"I don't think so." That was a thought Jenny did not want to entertain for a split second. The whole point of yoga was to not only keep fit but calm. If DiNozzo tagged along with her to a class, there would be no zen at all. She had continued with yoga after her brush with death in California.

"Mom, is this weird? It feels like the baby's staying on one side today, and I hurt right here," Lizzie explained, putting her hand over her lower abdomen. "It's almost a sharp, jabbing pain."

Her mother nodded knowingly and put her arm around her shoulders, kissing her head. "Not weird. It's round ligament pain," she said sympathetically. Jenny remembered all the aches and pains from pregnancy as though it was only yesterday. "It was terrible for me when I was carrying you and your sister around."

Lizzie let out a small sigh of relief that she wasn't pregnant with twins. "I don't know how you did it," she commented and grated the cheese.

Jenny laughed and rubbed her daughter's stomach, feeling her grandchild's movements. "It was worth it. Now, go get off your feet and boss your husband around," she told her as she straightened and removed the measuring cups from the cabinet.

"You need help."

"Avril Elizabeth, go."

Lizzie left the kitchen and went to the backyard. She stood in front of the lounge chair Tony was sitting in. He looked up at her cautiously. "Liz, baby…you okay?"

"No, my uterus is stretching. It hurts," she told him pitifully.

"C'mere," he said softly and sat up more in the lounger. She gently flopped onto the chair with him. Tony waited for her to get comfortable against him. He pressed his lips against her temple and popped his fingers. "Anthony DiNozzo to the rescue," he whispered and massaged her abdomen. Tony smiled when her eyes closed and a relaxed sigh came from her.

"Don't stop," she murmured, nuzzling her face against his neck. His hands felt wonderful.

"I won't," he whispered back. In May, he had been surprised when Lizzie showed up at headquarters on her lunch break, dragged him into the elevator, hit the emergency stop, and showed him the positive pregnancy test. The little DiNozzo had been a bombshell to both of them. Tony passed up a promotion to have his own team in Rota, Spain, but he knew it was best to decline the offer and stay in D.C. around his family. Lately, he'd had a hell of a time with keeping his mouth shut since finding out he was having a son.

Gibbs grinned at his daughter and son-in-law as he grilled the steaks. He couldn't wait for his first grandchild to arrive. The man hated to admit he was looking forward to the hell Lizzie's hormones would put DiNozzo through. He knew he would hear about it to no end soon enough. Abby brought out the corn for Gibbs to put on the grill. "Thanks, Abs. You helping in the kitchen?"

"Yep, I've been recruited."

"Did you bring your famous mac and cheese?"

"Of course, Gibbs! Don't I always make it for your birthday?"

Jethro smiled. Abby did always bring macaroni and cheese to his birthday celebration. He was curious about the potato salad Ziva had made. With all the side dishes the team had brought, he knew there would be plenty of leftovers.

Minutes later, Gibbs hollered at Abby to take the grilled corn into Jenny. With plenty of help in the kitchen, they were soon eating and celebrating Jethro's fifty-fifth birthday in the dining room of the townhome. After dinner, he opened all of his gifts. Ziva gave him well-made knife, and McGee had purchased a bottle of Pappy van Winkle's 23-year-old bourbon for him. Ducky went for sentimental; giving him a photo of the first day they worked together.

Katie leaned over and handed her father his gift from her. Intently, she watched him tear through the wrapping paper. He flicked open his knife and opened the long box. Jethro's mouth fell open. "Katharine Ann," he murmured and put the packaging on the ground.

"Do you like it? Grandpa helped me choose it."

With care, he removed the rifle and stared at it. His daughter had given him a rare Winchester rifle. He gazed at the 1876 Centennial model rifle and admired its beauty. It was in near perfect condition. He glanced at his father and gave him a nod of thanks. Katharine smiled proudly. Her father's silence and the grin forming on his features let her know she had done a good job. She looked over at her sister as she readied her gift. No one else would be able to out do what Elizabeth's present.

"Daddy, this is from me and Tony," she told him, waiting for him to put the Winchester away. He passed the rifle off to Jenny, and she handed it to her father-in-law. The older Gibbs carefully took it to Jethro's gun cabinet and locked it inside.

Jethro took the present and set the large gift bag on his lap. One of his eyebrows arched up as he dug through the tissue paper and felt soft material. Jenny leaned over, trying to peek into the bag. Finally, Gibbs pulled an infant's romper out. He stared at the little overalls that were appliquéd with a tool belt and pockets holding a hammer and wrench. He grinned from ear to ear at the words, grandpa's little helper. Jenny cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes as Jethro slowly looked to Elizabeth.

"A boy?" he asked softly, touching the blue fabric of the hammer on the romper.

Elizabeth bit her lip and nodded her head. She was desperately trying not to cry at her father's reaction, but it didn't last. As a tear of joy fell from her glistening eyes, she squeezed her husband's hand. Tony wrapped an arm around her.

He looked at his wife. "A grandson, Jen."

Jenny smiled at him and rubbed his back. He held the baby outfit in his hands and stood up, giving Elizabeth a bear hug. She returned the hug tightly. "I don't want him working on boats or anything else until he's at least a year old, Daddy."

Jethro laughed and nodded his head. "No promises, Lizzie." He looked at DiNozzo and punched his shoulder. "DiNozzo, if you think I'm going to cut you any slack for knocking my daughter up with my first grandson, think again," he said seriously but slowly grinned.

Tony snorted. "Of course, boss."

Jenny pushed her husband out of the way and hugged Elizabeth and Tony. She winked at Elizabeth. "I knew it was a boy."

Tony furrowed his brows. "Jenny, is there anything you don't know?"

Gibbs spoke up. "Yeah, she doesn't know where my truck is."

DiNozzo cleared his throat and turned to make a getaway. Gibbs remembered who had borrowed his truck. "Hey DiNozzo," he barked, making the younger man stop in his tracks. "You had my truck. What did you do with it?"

Swiftly, Jenny turned to her husband and looked at him angrily, plunging her index finger into his chest. "That's all I've heard all day, Jethro. I'm sick of it." Jenny looked to Ziva. "Get the blindfold, please," the redhead requested sweetly.

"Blindfold? Jen!" Jethro's eyes widened in alarm. If she had been conspiring with Ziva, he was in for it. Before Gibbs could do anything, the Israeli had the blindfold over his eyes and pushed him closer to Jenny. She seized his hand and yanked him through the house and stopped in the front yard. The rest of the company watched from a distance.

"Now," Jenny whispered into his ear and pulled the dark handkerchief from his blue eyes. "There's your damn truck."

Gibbs hurried over, examining the body of the truck for scratches. He surprisingly found none and yanked open the door. "Jenny!" he exclaimed as he realized why his truck had been gone all day.

His wife laughed at him as he climbed inside and examined the new interior. She walked over and leaned against the truck's door. "Have you noticed what's in the bed?"

"No," he answered dumbly and turned around. Jethro scrambled out of the driver's seat and climbed into the back of the truck. He tore into the gift and looked at his wife. "Where did you find this, Jen?"

"I have my ways."

Jethro hopped off the back of the truck and kissed her deeply, not caring if anyone was watching them. He knew she probably spent months searching pawn shops for the Shopsmith 10ER. "I'm gonna go over and set it up."

"You are not," she stated resolutely.

"But Jen…"

"No. You can do that tomorrow."

The bystanders snickered quietly. It never failed to be amusing to them when Jenny put her foot down. With his team, he was completely in charge. At home, Jenny ruled the roost. He grumbled and put a tarp over the vintage machinery. His hands were itching to work with wood using that machine. Jenny walked with him back into the house. She put candles into the apple pie and grabbed the bottle of chocolate sauce. Gibbs was serenaded with song and slathered his apple pie in the sauce while everyone else ate true birthday cake. The group slowly dwindled until just the family was left except for Jackson. He liked to stay at Jethro's bachelor pad.

In the den, Jenny and Gibbs were snuggled into the recliner while Tony and Lizzie claimed the sofa. Katie was at the other end of the couch with her back resting against the arm, slowly sipping bourbon. Cooper jumped up and nudged her. She patted the spot in front of her and petted the German shepherd's head when he rested it on her thigh.

"Movie time?" Tony asked.

Gibbs nodded and looked up when Jenny stood to her feet. "Where are you going?"

"Start without me. I'm going to tackle the dishes."

"I'll help," Katie said quickly. Her mother looked at her strangely. "What? I can wash dishes."

Jenny gave her daughter a signature smirk and went to the kitchen while Tony looked through the cabinet for _McLintock!, _the John Wayne film Jethro always watched after his birthday party. As Jenny ran the hot water, she watched Katie make coffee.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit," Jenny coughed.

"I'm not happy. What do I do?"

Katie poured a cup of coffee and sat down. Her mother was silent and began washing the dirty dishes. Those were three words a mother never wanted to hear her child say. Jenny sighed heavily. As she stood in front of the sink, Jenny felt utterly helpless. She couldn't snap her fingers and fix Katharine's problems. Why couldn't they be little girls once more? Their troubles were easier then.

"Mom," she whined, aggravated with her quarter life crisis. She put her head down on the countertop. "Tell me what to do."

"Katie, it's no longer my responsibility to dictate your happiness. You're in charge."

She lifted her head and grumbled. For once in her life, Katie wanted to be told what to do, and her mother didn't jump at the chance. What was going on? She clucked her tongue and chewed the inside of her cheek. "I should be happy. Right? I live in an amazing apartment on the Upper East Side. I make six figures a year. I go out every night. I should be happy, but I'm not."

Jenny wiped her hands with a dishtowel and faced her oldest. She had inkling as to why her daughter wasn't happy, and she was going to finally verbalize the suspicion. "Katharine, stop worrying about what I'll think or what your father will think. Fill out the application."

Katharine looked at her mom like she had grown six heads and burned her with a flamethrower. With that reaction, Jenny knew she was correct in her suspicions. "Application? What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what application I'm referring to, Katharine Ann. You're not happy because you're not doing what you love."

"But mom," she began.

"No but mom. I'm not surprised that you want to be an agent; it's in your blood. I won't stop you neither will your father. The chauvinist in him will bitch, but he'll understand it's what you want to do."

After several minutes, Katie let out a deep breath and looked at her mom. Jenny gave her a comforting, warm smile and held out her arms. Katie walked into her arms and buried her face into the crook her neck. Jenny kissed her temple. "I won't show you any special treatment if you become a NCIS agent. You have my blessing."

"Thank you," Katie whispered and let go of her. She dried the dishes while her mother washed and rinsed. Katie stared in awe at her mother. Once again, her mother had just known. Shortly, they rejoined the _McLintock!_ watching crowd in the den.

Jenny settled in the chair with Jethro and burrowed herself into his side, pulling a soft blanket over them. She rubbed her toes against his ankles as they watched the movie. "We need to talk later," she said in her soft, velvet voice. Later would be when Katharine was safely back in New York.

He looked at her curiously. Before he could ask any questions, she looked over at Katharine. "Katie, your father named you after Maureen O'Hara's character."

"Are you serious?"

Her mother gave her a nod.

"Jen changed the spelling though," he mumbled, looking as though she had burned his boat.

She smirked at him and laced her fingers with his. "I had chosen Elizabeth's name, and he had only chosen your middle name, Katie," she explained. "We were watching this movie one weekend when he informed me you'd be a redhead named Katharine."

Katie looked at her father in disbelief. She smiled at him, shaking her head with a laugh. Was there anything he couldn't do? He'd predicted the future even back then.

"Daddy, what if I'd been a brunette?"

"Nah, got too much Shepard in you."

Jenny cocked an eyebrow at him and sat up straighter. "What is that supposed to mean, Jethro? Too much Shepard?"

"Mom, I think you proved a point," Lizzie spoke, yawning and covering her mouth. The day of partying was starting to take its toll on her. She put her head against Tony's chest and burrowed into his side.

Jethro grinned and kissed his wife before she could argue with Elizabeth. It wouldn't have been much of a squabble considering Lizzie was soundly asleep within minutes.

Halfway through the movie, DiNozzo felt the pins and needles in his arm from Lizzie sleeping on him. He unsuccessfully attempted to move his arm without waking her up. "Sorry," Tony mumbled. She peered at him with sleepy blue green eyes and slowly stretched her legs out, rubbing her small belly. She cuddled into him and stayed awake. There was no drifting back to sleep; the earlier sugar rush from birthday cake had little DiNozzo active.

Tony threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth and munched loudly. He sucked down some of his drink and momentarily looked at his father-in-law. "Boss, you're a lot like the Duke."

Gibbs turned his head and glared at DiNozzo. When he heard Jenny snicker, he glared at her. Jethro wasn't 6 feet 4 inches and didn't spend most of his time on horseback. He didn't think he was anything like John Wayne.

"I keep waiting for you to say, 'That'll be the day,'" Tony articulated, mimicking John Wayne's deep voice badly. Lizzie sat up and looked at her husband with shocked eyes. Why did he have to say that? Tony didn't know the story. He had no idea Gibbs had used that line before and at a very wrong time. Her eyes wandered over to her mother. Jenny looked like a cat that was about to kill the canary.

Gibbs shifted in the recliner, uncomfortable and mortified. He hated to hear those words; they made him feel like someone had just punched him in the gut and made Jenny remember how much he'd ripped her heart out that day. He still felt like a mental defective for saying that to Jenny the first time she told him that she loved him. Finally, his blue eyes met his wife's green. "Don't, Jen," he said gruffly.

He grumbled when she patted him on the cheek. "That'll be the day," she responded haughtily.

"Hit him," Gibbs ordered, motioning for Lizzie to carry out his demand.

"What? What'd I do?" Tony yelled, confusion all over his face. "Don't hit me. I don't even know what I did!" He felt like a puppy that was about to have his nose rubbed in the carpet.

Lizzie laughed and rubbed his arm soothingly. "I'm not going to hit you. I'll explain later," she promised, settling back into her spot against him.

For the rest of the night, Tony sat there wondering what he'd done to keep receiving signature Gibbs' glares. He profusely apologized for bringing up a sore spot after he found out the back-story on Sunday morning. Jethro hung up on Tony after he apologized for the millionth time. DiNozzo kept interrupting his setting up the Shopsmith 10ER. Gibbs threw the phone onto the worktable and looked at his father.

Jackson had an amused look on his face. "Lizzie knows how to pick 'em."

"Yeah, dad," he replied with a chuckle. The two men smiled when the machine fired up.

"Let's get started. We got a January deadline, son."

Gibbs took a sip of coffee and nodded his head. His Sunday was going to be spent in the basement with his father working on a crib for the baby. He'd had another great birthday with the people that mattered most in his life. Next year? Well, he and Jenny would have a grandson to spoil and plenty more to celebrate.


	2. The Manicures and the Mishaps

Gibbs killed the engine of the Dodge Charger. He frowned when he noticed the garage door hadn't been left open for his arrival. That idiot son-in-law of his had probably forgotten. The silver haired agent walked around to the front of the craftsman style home in the highly sought after Woodmont neighborhood of Arlington that belonged to his daughter and son-in-law. Easily, he jogged up the brick steps that led to a traditionally styled front door, entering the home without knocking. The smell of pot roast cooking hit his nostrils, and he smiled. For the past week, he'd been having dinner with Elizabeth and Tony. Jenny was out of town for a boring ass kissing conference, and Lizzie had decided that it was better for her father's health if he didn't live on bourbon and take out for a week.

"Hey Mags," he whispered, bending down and greeting the two year old German shepherd with a scratch behind the ears. The dog had been Elizabeth's Christmas present from Tony the first year they were married, and Gibbs had helped him choose the pet. He hadn't trusted the younger agent to make a decision on a family pet. DiNozzo may well be his son-in-law, but that didn't meant Gibbs thought he was any less – for a lack of a better word – blonde, half the time. "Where's Lizzie?"

The dog darted through the formal dining room and into the kitchen before skidding into the family room. Gibbs followed Maggie a couple of paces behind and stopped near the entryway of the living room, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Be still," Elizabeth ordered her husband as she sat in his lap.

"Do you know how adorable you are right now?" He leaned in and trailed kisses along her jaw line as he tugged on the hem of the long sleeve Ohio State shirt she'd stolen from him. Tony kissed the corner of her mouth.

She smiled warmly at him and cupped his face. "I see through your distraction. Nice try," Elizabeth conveyed softly.

"Liz," Tony whined, dragging out his wife's name for emphasis. He attempted to pull his hand away for the millionth time, but she jerked it back, digging her nails into his wrist.

"This is important."

With his free hand, Tony rubbed his face hard and blew out a frustrated breath. His wife was terrorizing him. "I don't see how this is important."

Elizabeth narrowed her blue green eyes at him and glared fiercely. Immediately, Tony knew he was going to pay for his comment. Jethro tentatively stepped closer and instantly wanted to turn tail and run. Lizzie was painting DiNozzo's fingernails. He flashed backed to way too many instances of his girls ganging up on him and giving him a makeover. Gibbs had made sure all of those photos were secretly tucked away, so the team would never catch wind of his teatime makeovers at the hands of his girls. Wait, Lizzie wasn't a little girl anymore; she was twenty-five years old. She wouldn't do that to her dear old father anymore. Jethro had nothing to worry about. He cleared his throat and stepped into the room.

"Daddy!" Lizzie shouted, a gleeful smile instantaneously spreading across her features.

"Hey kiddo," he said as he walked to the couch, kissing her forehead and giving Tony a look of sympathy and amusement. "What are you doing?"

"Painting Tony's nails," she answered simply. Tony frowned and poked his wife in her six-month pregnant belly. She promptly slapped at his hand and gave him the signature Gibbs family glare. "Stop it. You'll mess up your nails." He rolled his eyes and looked at the variety of colors of nail polish that his fingers were currently decorated in.

"I can see that, Lizzie. Why?" Gibbs asked.

"She's trying to decide what colors to get rid of," Tony answered. He lifted the large basket filled with various bottles of polishes. It rattled as he set it back down onto the coffee table. Large glass bottles knocked against small glass bottles. He prayed none of them broke because Elizabeth would definitely kill him. "Fall nail polish spring cleaning. Right, Liz?"

She nodded and finished coating her husband's nail with Bastille My Heart. The volume of the bottles in the container didn't shock Gibbs. All of the females in his life were hoarders of shoes, nail polishes, lipsticks, and other items. Jenny had passed down the whole hoarding habit to his daughters. For his wife, her hoarding weakness was shoes. Jethro had never understood the need to amass them in bulk; he had once asked, but the response he'd received made that a painful memory. Maggie trotted over to him, and he rubbed the dog's coat. Slowly, he lifted his head and met his daughter's eyes as she stared at him. He knew that flicker in her eyes; he'd seen it a thousand times before.

"Daddy," she began, a twinkle in her eye that he recognized. He'd seen that twinkle numerous times from Elizabeth over the years, but also from her mother whenever she wanted something. Gibbs promptly held his hand up and negatively shook his head. "But Daddy, please. I only have ten more shades left, and you have ten clean fingernails."

"Lizzie, I came over here for dinner. Not a manicure," he informed her roughly.

Tony's eyes widened as he watched Elizabeth fold her arms over her chest and steady herself. He knew she'd react two ways: hormonal tears or hormonal hostile negotiation. She looked like she could breathe fire and spit nails. DiNozzo gulped fearfully and stared at Gibbs. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He knew his wife was not going for compromise; she was about to deliver an ultimatum.

"I'll tell mom about how you lost that radar system for the Navy the last time she was out of town. If you let me paint your nails, I won't utter a word."

Jethro's jaw dropped then he glared at his son-in-law for opening his big mouth. He'd have to remember the crack the back of his skull later. Somehow, Jenny hadn't found out about it yet, and he didn't ever want her to be enlightened of that mishap. Jenny the Director of NCIS would have his ass on a kabob. Jenny the wife would make his punishment even worse. Less than five minutes later, Gibbs was sitting next to his daughter on the sofa getting his nails done. He huffed and sighed miserably. Twenty years later, she was still giving him damned makeovers. Maybe a tiara wouldn't be involved.

"Shouldn't the pot roast be done by now?" he questioned impatiently, looking for an escape.

"It has another hour. Noemi came over and turned it on around noon. We'll eat at 8 o'clock," Lizzie answered as she lacquered one of his fingernails with Essie's Ballet Slippers. Her father wasn't getting away that easily. If she had to hold him down, she would.

"Is anything on there?" Gibbs questioned, blue eyes squinting as he glared at the nail.

"Yes," she replied and held up his hand.

"What's the point?"

"It's a nude. Well, a pale sheer pink," Lizzie declared as she admired the coating she had just applied to her father's short nail.

He furrowed his brows. What was the point of nude nail polishes? Wasn't the point of painting nails to look like they had something on them? He shook his head. "What's that one?" he inquired as his daughter placed the 'sheer pink' color down next to another bottle of polish, a darker cherry red color.

"Chick Flick Cherry by OPI," Lizzie told him after glimpsing at the bottle her father had referred to.

"It's a good color," Tony piped up, showing off the red shade on his thumb.

"Yeah, brings out your eyes, Tony," Gibbs commented sarcastically.

Lizzie pinched her father's wrist and closed the cap on the bottle of ballet slippers. She tapped her index finger on her chin and chose the next color, Essie's Boom Boom Room. Jethro groaned. It was a sickly candy pink, the same shade that every Barbie doll always wore. A color he had thought he had seen the last of when those dolls got boxed up and relocated to the attic to collect dust. Had she kept all the pinks for him?

While Elizabeth meticulously painted his nails, Gibbs became bored. He started picking up bottles of polish and looking at the names. Another 'nude' polished called Hearts & Tarts, Privacy Please – practically the same color as the other one just with a different name, Pirouette My Whistle – a sparkly spotty whatever color, I'm Not Really a Waitress – a dark red that he'd love to see on his wife's nails…but where did the makers of this stuff come up with these names?

"Babe, I'm going to take Maggie out," Tony told his wife as he stood up. He whistled for the shepherd and headed out of the living room.

"Tony," Lizzie called out. "You're forgetting something."

Her husband turned around and looked thoroughly confused. What was he forgetting? He had the dog by his side. A leash wasn't needed because the backyard was enclosed with a fence. He scratched his head and looked at Gibbs for help. The older man shrugged his shoulders.

"Kiss," Elizabeth declared. Her husband obliged her with a kiss and left to let the dog run around outside. "Daddy, I ordered a cake."

"Un-order it, Elizabeth. She's not celebratin'," he said, leaning over to see what color she'd put on him. "Bikini So Teeny?" At least, this color was not pink. It was a powder blue. He immediately realized that he was in trouble when his first thought was 'that's more manly.'

She giggled and patted the top of his hand before turning serious, looking at her father face on. "I'm not going to un-order the cake."

"You better. Your mom's not celebratin' her birthday this year."

"She's being insanely stubborn," Elizabeth muttered. Gibbs snorted loudly. He was used to it from Jenny. The older the girls became the more they had realized just how obstinate their mother could be.

Lizzie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, looking at her father sadly. "She needs to celebrate. We almost," her voice cracked and tears pooled in her eyes. Her father knew what she couldn't finish saying. She cleared her throat, trying to regain strength in her voice. "Mom should be grateful to celebrate her birthday…every single one after California."

Jethro straightened and leaned forward, putting his hands on his daughter's legging clad knees. He gave her knee a comforting squeeze. "Elizabeth, tell her that. Okay?" He understood. He knew that his wife should be appreciative. Every single day with Jenny had meant a hell of a lot more since California, but sometimes he thought that stubborn redhead needed to be reminded how close she'd come to not having any more birthdays.

She nodded her head and dabbed at her eyes gently with the sleeve of the shirt. Gibbs squeezed her knee again and grinned. "You're not finished." He wiggled his fingers at her and smiled widely when she laughed.

By the time Elizabeth finished, her father's fingernails were adorned with a spectrum of colors. Unfortunately, he had to ask the names. Jethro was not thrilled that she had put After Sex and Size Matters on his nails. In fact, he was a little mortified at the two deep red polishes. "You couldn't have saved those for Tony?"

She shrugged her shoulders and moved from her spot. She had known that if she put them on her husband then she would never have gotten any further as Tony would have taken it as an invitation, and she _really_ had wanted to sort through the colors. Tony reentered the living room. "Saved what for me?"

"After Sex and Size Matters," Lizzie answered him with a wink.

DiNozzo howled with laughter that she had put those colors on Gibbs. His laughter was cut short when Gibbs sent a pillow sailing to his head. Tony picked up the pillow and straightened. "Sorry, boss. Wanna beer? I'll go get one," he said swiftly and exited before anything else could be lobbed at him.

Jethro held his hands in front of him and checked out his manicure. He frowned at the colors. Elizabeth had put more of Ballet Slippers on that one nail and added a glittery topcoat. He despised glitter. In his opinion, glitter was the evil of the girly world. He'd had one too many run-ins with it in the past, but that was the price he paid for having daughters. Glitter paint, glitter glue, glitter on cards, glitter on scarves and gloves and tops and shoes and… "Lizzie," he called out.

"Yeah?" she replied as she checked the pot roast.

"You missed one."

"Be right there," she responded to her father and turned to Tony. "Butter the dinner rolls and put them in the oven, please."

He saluted her and handed her the bottle of beer. "Yes, ma'am. Take that to him."

Elizabeth took the beer and gave it to her father when she returned to the living room. She sat down and took his hand, silently looking over the bottles of polishes on the coffee table. "Oh, I can't remember what this one looks like."

Jethro rubbed his brow. Great. Another pink – and it was sparkly. He watched her shake the bottle gently and carefully apply one brushstroke of polish on the nail of his ring finger. When Elizabeth set the polish down, he picked it up and looked at the bottom. His eyes widened, shock and horror glazing over the baby blues. "Avril Elizabeth," he growled. "Do not put that on."

"What? Why?"

Her father shoved the bottle at her. His features looked utterly scandalized and outraged. She rolled her eyes and looked at the name, Pussy Galore. The redhead bit her lip and tried her best to stifle her laughter. "Daddy," she began.

"Manicure's over," Jethro declared and stood up. It was bad enough she'd put two colors on him referring to the bedroom, but the name of that color was too much for him. If it was Jenny then it would have been a different matter, but this was his _daughter_.

"Daddy," Elizabeth said, laughing. "It's not what you think. It's from…"

"It's not going on me," her father grumbled. He headed into the kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island, draining his beer. His son-in-law eyed him curiously as he sulked. "What?" Gibbs snapped.

"You look pissed."

"Lizzie tried to put a damn color on me called Pussy Galore," he told him, saying the name of the color barely above a whisper. Jethro was just as annoyed when DiNozzo did not look the slightest bit uncomfortable or awkward at the comment.

"Bond. James Bond," Tony imitated the Scottish accent of Sean Connery.

"Your Sean Connery is better than your John Wayne," Gibbs told him.

Tony squawked, embarrassed. Gibbs was still sore about that from his birthday weekend. Nonetheless, Tony continued. "She's a Bond girl from Goldfinger. It's not like Pussy Galore as in," he stopped considering the murderous look on his father-in-law's face. The men occupied the kitchen in silence.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth sat down next to her father with her phone in hand. "No more nail painting," she told him, crossing her heart and smiling sweetly.

Jethro gave a slight nod of his head and sipped his beer, brooding about being violated with such feminine, glittery nail polishes. God, the names...he was uncertain what was worse - the colors his daughter had slathered on his nails or knowing the names of the polishes. The sound of a camera shutter broke him out of his sulking. He turned his head and gave Elizabeth a dirty look. She glanced up from the screen of her iPhone and beamed at her father. "I need to take to take pictures," she disclosed as she snapped another picture, zooming in on her daddy's hand.

"Why?" he questioned, putting his beer down. Hadn't he been through enough? Gibbs was definitely beginning to wish he had reverted back to his old ways and spent the evening with a bottle of bourbon and Chinese takeout from the depths of his basement. Without a doubt, there were no bottles of nail polish there.

"To send to Katie. I'm going to send the polishes to her."

"Why can't she buy 'em?" he asked, more annoyed. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. She knew the answer, but she wasn't going to enlighten her father. Katie had started to put herself on a budget. The young lawyer was preparing for the serious pay decrease if she became a NCIS agent.

"She did it to me," Tony piped up.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

DiNozzo shrugged and offered Gibbs another beer. He popped it open and let Elizabeth take pictures of his nails. She may have sent one or two to her mother. Soon, they were eating dinner in the kitchen and making small talk. Gibbs enjoyed the company. Despite the whole ordeal, once the nail varnish names had been pushed to the back of his mind he decided it was, in fact, better than being in the basement with takeout or at the Georgetown house alone and dealing with Cooper's whimpering and pacing. That dog missed Jenny as much as he did; only Gibbs didn't sit there whining all evening.

After dinner, the guys tackled loading the dishes into the dishwasher while Elizabeth sorted through the polishes and put them away. She separated the ones she would be sending to her sister. Tony and Gibbs headed outside to sit in swing on the front porch. The silver haired man listened to his son-in-law ramble away about Lizzie's hormones and his fears about being a father for the first time.

"What if I drop the kid? What if I pass out in the delivery room? What if it's not the same between us after he gets here?"

Gibbs sipped his beer and put it down on the porch. "Tony, no one knows what they're doing the first time. You do the best you can. If you pass out, a nurse will wake you up," he told him and turned, looking the younger man in the eye. "It won't be the same. It'll be different, but it'll be better between you and Lizzie."

Both men kept their mouths shut when Elizabeth came outside with Maggie close behind her. She announced she was going to bed. "The polish remover is in the cabinet under the sink," she told them and hugged her father. "Stay as long as you like, Daddy."

He nodded and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, Lizzie."

She put her hands on her hips and looked at Tony. "Don't forget that we're going shopping tomorrow."

"I remember, Liz." He stood up and followed her into the house as Gibbs' phone began ringing.

"Done enough ass kissing yet?" Gibbs spoke into the phone with a small smirk on his face as he listened to the velvet voice on the other end.

On the other end of the line, Jenny hoped her husband could feel the look she was giving him. "I'd much prefer if you told me you missed me."

"I do. Miss me?"

Jenny smiled. "Of course. I hate I missed you getting your nails done. Aren't you a little old for that, Jethro?"

"Me? Jen, shouldn't _your_ daughter be too old to do that to me?" He held the phone away from his ear when Jenny cackled wildly. After a minute or two, he put the phone back to his ear. She was still laughing. "That's enough, Jen."

"I'll stop. I thought Bikini So Teeny was the winner for you, Jethro," she said. "It almost matched your eyes. Are you still over there?

"Yeah, I'm still here. Lizzie's gone to bed. Jen, Tony's worried about dropping the baby," he told her with a chuckle.

"You were too," she stated, trying to stop her husband going all high and mighty on her son-in-law. Tony reminded her a lot of Jethro before she settled him down.

Jethro liked to act like the big tough one, but she could vividly remember having the same conversation with him when she was pregnant with the girls. He had been such a worrywart then.

"Yeah, I know. I told him he'd be fine."

"I'll see you tomorrow when you pick me up."

"What time's your flight getting in? I might be busy."

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs!"

He grinned and laughed. "Just messin' with you, Jen. I'll be there. I love you."

"I love you too," she said and told him goodnight before ending the call. Neither could wait for her to be home. It seemed like every time she was away they missed one another more these days.

When DiNozzo came back onto the porch, he returned with an empty bottle of nail polish remover. "We have a problem."

"What?"

"It's empty," he informed, shaking the bottle. "I couldn't find another one."

"Go get some," Gibbs demanded.

"I'm not leaving the house with this on my hands."

There was deafening silence as they sat outside in the October night. Gibbs leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as Tony slowly finished off a bottle of beer. Both men racked their brains as to how they could get the nail polish off their fingers. Jethro straightened and hit Tony's arm. "I know what we will do," Jethro spoke as if he'd invented the next best contraption to make life easier.

"What? Draw straws?"

"No, we aren't dealing with Jenny." It was well known that nearly everyone drew straws to deal with Jenny. He found it highly amusing, but he knew his wife was ever so slightly offended by the whole test. "We'll wear gloves to go to the store."

"Good idea, boss."

The pair went into the house and found gloves. Before long, they were in a drug store and scanning the aisles for remover. They were definitely puzzled by all of the different brands. Gibbs grabbed a simple bottle and shrugged. "This'll do."

"No, it won't."

"Why not?" Gibbs questioned, eyebrows rising incredulously. "It'll take it off."

"We need non-acetone," Tony informed his father-in-law.

"What's the difference?"

"Lizzie's been getting that. Something about the chemicals affecting the baby or something. I don't know. Make my life easier and get non-acetone."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a bottle of non-acetone remover off the shelf. Tony thought about needing cotton balls to remove the polish and grabbed a bag. Soon, they checked out and were back at the house. All of the colors on DiNozzo's nails came off beautifully. However, the glittery polishes on Jethro's nails were infuriatingly stubborn and would not come off. After an hour of scrubbing with cotton balls, he gave up on removing the sparkly bits. Close to midnight, Gibbs left Arlington, annoyed and surly. He cursed every single time a shimmering bit of remaining polish glinted in the light. Maybe he'd be able to have it off before he had to pick up Jenny from the airport. If not, the man would never hear the end of it.

Ever.

* * *

_For Alexandra who is always a fan of people holding Gibbs down and painting his nails._


	3. The Shut-ins

The morning light crept in through the windows and settled on top of the twisted sheets of the king sized bed. The rays of sun roamed over the two people lying in perfect unconsciousness. He opened his eyes and squinted before rubbing his face into the warmth of the pillow. The redhead next to him was still asleep, and he inched closer to her, throwing an arm over her small form. "Morning," Jethro murmured, kissing his wife's ivory shoulder. She relaxed against him and tilted her head, meeting his lips for a daybreak kiss. He rubbed his nose against hers, resting his head on her pillow. Jenny's eyes were clouded with sleep still, but it would forever be her husband's opinion that she looked the most beautiful first thing in the morning. Face free of make-up and skin flushed from the warmth of the covers with a lazy smile resting happily on her face. She was utterly free from any stresses the day would bring.

"What time is it?" she asked, blinking sleep away from her eyes.

Her husband lifted his head and glanced to the clock that set on the bedside table behind his wife. "9 o'clock," he answered. "What's the plan for today?"

Jenny rolled over in his arms and slithered her hand up and down his bicep. "Let's stay in bed all day," she suggested, tangling her legs with his and kissing the corner of his mouth. She nestled deeper into the comfort of bed and lightly yawned.

Gibbs pulled back and stared at her. His face was a mix of shock and concern. She – Jennifer Shepard-Gibbs – wanted a day in bed. During the night, someone must have switched Jen's on him, and he needed to investigate. Jethro lifted the sheets and peeked under them. His eyes drifted over the silky lavender nighty. All the parts were the same. He brushed his finger over the birthmark on her thigh. That was the same too. "Jethro, what are you doing?" she asked, frustrated and curious at his antics.

"Everything still looks the same," he said aloud. Unfortunately, he'd voiced his observation loud enough for her to hear.

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Of course, it does! Why wouldn't it look the same?" she asked, more annoyed. Of course, her body was the same. Well, she liked how it looked twenty-five years ago much better, but that was beside the point. Nothing had changed since the last time he saw it hours ago. Why was he – that idiot. She faltered between flattery and irritation with her husband. Still, she socked him in the shoulder hard, smirking when he grumbled in pain. "Stop being male! Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

Jethro knew that tone, and he knew her next move would be to yank him up by the ear. He liked his ears, and his shoulder was beginning to throb from her solid strike. He reappeared from under the sheets and glared, rubbing his shoulder with a look on his face that almost resembled a pout. "How the hell can I stop being male, Jen?"

His better half ignored the question and tried not to laugh at him. She leaned forward and placed her lips against the red mark from her assault, testing out the age old saying 'kiss it all better.' "No one's switched wives on you, and I haven't lost my mind. Let's stay in today."

"Sounds good to me," he whispered against her ear and pulled her against his chest, kissing her cheek. Jenny tenderly glided her finger across his jaw, feeling the day old stubble tickle against her fingertips, and smiled as he nuzzled her. She ached for a lazy Saturday. The past few weeks had been high paced and involved too much traveling and ass kissing. She fingered the short sleeve of his t-shirt and laughed quietly.

"What's funny?" he asked, but she wasn't able to answer before Cooper bounded onto the bed and flopped at their feet. Gibbs smirked at the faithful companion and shook his head. "Coop, day in bed for us. Not you," he said to the German shepherd. He noticed his wife moving out of bed, and he sat up, hooking his arm around her waist. She fell against him. "Bed," he stated, mentally deciding that he was going to lock that dog in the study from now on if he didn't stop interrupting the more intimate moments between him and Jen.

"Breakfast," she countered.

"Pancakes?"

She nodded. "Blueberry with powdered sugar."

Jethro kissed her shoulder then the crook of her neck, releasing her. It was a good decision to eat then he would get her back into bed. They'd stay in bed longer with sustenance first. He watched her take his robe and tie it loosely around her. She left the bedroom and ventured downstairs into the kitchen. He stayed in bed, lazily moving his foot underneath the dog to annoy him. Finally, Gibbs sat up and stretched. He cursed when Jenny's cell phone started going off. At least, it wasn't the director phone. He rubbed his face and leaned over to her nightstand, taking the phone off the charger. 5 iMessages from Katie. He fumbled with the fancy schmancy phone and somehow opened the messages. _Are you awake? - Of course, you are. It's after 9AM. – I went on date number 3 with Mr. Hedge Fund. – I can't see him anymore. – The sex was terrible. I swear his penis was microscopic. _Gibbs threw the phone onto the nightstand and felt like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets. His eyes burned, and he felt embarrassment rising through him like heat from a furnace. He missed being a father to sweet, darling little girls that had no idea what penises were, but no - he was a father to two twenty-five-year olds that knew what penises were and had enough experience to criticize size. That was something he had been trying to feign stupidity towards from the last however many years. The phone beeped several more times, and he blindly picked it up. The mortified father trudged downstairs and took a seat in the kitchen. He cleared his throat.

Jenny turned away from making coffee and looked at her husband. Jethro was thirty shades of red and looking like he'd just seen his mother-in-law naked. "Jethro?"

"Katie, uh," he responded gruffly. "Y, no, iMessaged you. Jen, I didn't mean to – I didn't."

She sighed heavily and looked up to the ceiling, rolling her eyes. Calmly, she held out her hand and flipped a pancake onto the plate with the other. Gibbs placed the iPhone into her waiting hand like it was a hot potato. She opened the messages and read them quickly, biting her lip hard and glancing at her husband. He sat there looking down at the floor and appeared to be redder with embarrassment. Jenny couldn't fight it; laughter bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. She doubled over and held onto her sides as amusement overtook her. Jethro shifted in his seat uncomfortably and watched his wife. He mumbled under his breath and stalked to the coffee pot. He damn well needed caffeine now. Jenny regained composure and rubbed his back. "Honey," she cooed. "I shouldn't have," she began but giggled. Unfortunately, it wasn't out of her system. Jethro turned to her, looking every bit of insulted. "I'm sorry," she apologized and stepped closer, putting her hands on his arms.

He gulped down his coffee and set the mug onto the counter. Jethro wished it was later in the day, so he could have something _much _stronger. The last twenty minutes needed to be erased from his memory. He had so, so many questions, but he wasn't sure if he wanted them answered. "Jen, who's Mr. Hedge Fund?"

Jenny looked at him thoughtfully and kept her hands on him. "Do you really want to know?"

Gibbs nodded his head. He hadn't talked to his oldest daughter lately. Katharine seemed to be dodging him most days and flat out ignoring him some days. "Who is he?"

"She met him through a client. He's thirty-two and has a miniscule member."

He fixed his eyes into a glare and gave her a scathing look. "Dammit, Jenny."

His wife giggled and rubbed his arm. "His name is Bradley. She hasn't told me his last name."

"But she told you about his," he muttered and looked down, motioning with his hands. Jenny tilted her head forward into his chest, snickering. Finally, she straightened and looked him in the eyes. "When did it change?" Gibbs asked. He knew Katie kept her fair share of secrets, but if she was talking about _those_ intimate details with her mother something had changed.

"Four years ago," she whispered. It was amazing what a near death experience would make a daughter tell her mother. Jenny turned back to the stove, pouring the pancake mixture into the pan. "Jethro, it's not all _that_ shocking. You'd be having the same conversations with Jasper."

Jethro fell silent and leaned against the countertop as he thought about his son. Jasper would be twenty-two and in college perhaps. The thoughts that plagued Gibbs the most about his son were what he'd be doing if he'd lived, how many woodworking projects they would have finished together, how many games of catch they would have played in the backyard, and all of those other things a father and son did together. He felt his wife's arms come around him and her lips softly land against his temple. "I miss him too," she whispered and squeezed his arm. He circled his arms around her and held her close. Jenny rubbed her husband's back and kissed the side of his face before turning her attention back to breakfast. Before the couple sat down to eat, Jenny texted her serial iMessaging daughter back. _Call you later. Love you. _With that, she turned her phone off.

As Jenny cut into a pancake, she glanced over at her husband. "Are you sure you want to stay in? I thought it was hardware store Saturday."

"It is," Gibbs answered with a mouthful of pancake and powdered sugar all over his face. She smiled at him and leaned over slightly, dabbing the sides of his mouth with a napkin. He smirked at her and nudged her knee with his knee. "You tryin' to renegotiate terms of staying in?"

"No, Jethro. I only know your project has a deadline, and you've bumped it up."

"It'll be finished before Christmas," he spoke, referring to his grandson's crib. "Besides, the hardware store will still be there. A Saturday in with you is better."

Jenny smiled brightly and kissed her husband. "You romantic, sentimental softie," she whispered. This was the side of her husband that she loved more than any – the romantic side that even his daughters had only seen a handful of times. There were so many sides to Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but she was one of the few that got to see all of them on a daily basis.

"Don't tell anybody," he replied, fully capturing her mouth with his until both of them needed air. She sipped her coffee, rubbing her foot along Jethro's calf. He thumbed through the paper Jenny had retrieved from the front steps earlier and ate his breakfast while she read over his shoulder. He cleared his throat and met her eyes, deciding to cautiously probe into someone's personal life. "Jen, does, uh, Lizzie talk to you about sex?"

"Oh God," she muttered, shaking her head quickly. "No, not since dating Tony. Lizzie talks to me about everything but _that_."

He let out a sigh of relief and swallowed down a blueberry, silently thinking. Katie was one thing; for a start, he didn't have a clue who the guy she had been – uh – with was. But he _knew_ DiNozzo and worked with him. If he had to know _anything_ about what Lizzie and Tony did behind closed doors then he might have to fire the younger agent because he would not be able to face him every damn day. "Jen, do I talk to the girls enough?" Somehow, the morning revelations had him doubting if he was good at communicating with Katharine and Elizabeth.

She looked stricken and put her hand on his arm. "Oh, Jethro, you do. You talk to Katie and Lizzie as a father should. You've always been there when they've come to you with whatever," she finished, patting his arm. If there was one thing Gibbs was constantly good at, more than anything, it was being a father. Jenny didn't know many fathers that would let their twenty-five-year old daughter paint their nails for a start. She remembered the weekends Jethro spent teaching the girls how to change the oil in a car and how to change a flat tire. He'd always wanted them to be self sufficient, but Katie and Elizabeth knew their daddy was a phone call away at all times.

Gibbs mulled her words over and finished his breakfast. He handed the newspaper over to Jenny and got up, walking to the coffee pot. He refilled his mug along with hers. "Hey Jen," he said, setting her cup down. "Lizzie decided on anything yet?"

"What?" she asked as she put the paper down. "Jethro, I was reading. I wasn't paying attention."

Her husband rolled his eyes and stared at a spot in the ceiling before sitting back down next to her. "Lizzie decided on anything yet?" he repeated his question. Jenny gave him a blank, confused look. "For the nursery," Jethro clarified.

"Oh! Tony wants a race car theme, and Lizzie wants nautical."

Jethro smirked and held his mug with both of his hands. He chuckled before taking a long sip of the strong coffee. Jenny hit him with the paper. "Jethro," she admonished. "You shouldn't take pleasure in them squabbling over nursery themes."

"I'm not, Jen. DiNozzo hasn't learned anything from me. He's outgunned. Lizzie'll get her way," he declared. "She learned from the best," he added, elbowing Jenny gently.

Jenny blew out air and shook her head at her husband. "Of course, that's just what Tony has needed all these years. The Leroy Jethro Gibbs guide on how deal with a redhead," she muttered. "It's worked so very well for you at times," his wife finished sarcastically. Gibbs cleared his throat and cautiously watched his redheaded wife out of the corner of his eye. He smartly didn't say a word and drank his coffee, letting out a sigh of relief when Jenny resumed reading _The Washington Post_. Amazingly, he'd averted a fight.

The pair sat quietly side by side in the kitchen, and Jethro waited for Jenny to finish breakfast. While he patiently waited, he thought about his daughter in New York. Gibbs took his plate from the counter and dropped it into the sink, beginning to wash the breakfast mess. As he scrubbed the first plate, he decided to call Katie later if she'd answer the phone. Jenny set her empty plate into the sink and began drying the few dishes. Her husband eyed her. "Paperwork?"

"I did it all last night."

He grinned like a kid in a candy store. It was rare for her not to be buried under paperwork on the weekends. She laughed, shaking her head at him. The dishes were put away, and Jenny poured her third cup of coffee. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced.

"We aren't going anywhere," Gibbs mumbled.

"I can still shower," she told him and slowly sauntered to the doorway. The redhead paused and let her husband's robe fall to the floor. She whistled at him, and Jethro looked up in time to see the skimpy mix of lace and silk fall into a lavender heap. He smiled wickedly and followed after her. Jenny took off into a run and dashed up the stairs. He caught up with her and tackled her, landing on the bed. Her laughter filled his ears as he pinned her arms down. A smile had already formed on his lips as well.

"Jethro, I wanted to shower," she lied, panting from the run.

"Uh huh," he whispered and titled his head down, trailing kisses along her collarbone.

"This isn't fair," Jenny muttered, pressing her lips into a pout.

Gibbs stopped his ministrations and gazed into her eyes. "What?"

Her hand slid down his sides, and she tugged on his shirt, pulling it up to his neck. "You're still clothed."

He rolled his eyes and jerked his shirt over his head, throwing it to a far corner. Quickly, she pushed his plaid pajama bottoms down and gently brushed her fingers over him. He groaned and nibbled her ear as his hands slipped between her legs. She closed her eyes, whimpering softly. "Jethro," she sighed and feathered her fingers through his cropped, silver hair. His lips moved over her jaw before finding her mouth, kissing her heatedly. Jenny shifted under him and bit his bottom lip, sucking gently to ease the pain. He broke away when he felt her nudge him, placing a kiss of utter tenderness in the hollow of her throat. Jethro trailed his way down, kissing and teasing. She sighed his name as his lips, tongue, and hands slid over her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and their eyes met. All thoughts of a shower had been erased from her mind. Languidly, he kissed his way back up until his lips softened over hers and slipped inside of her. He relished the feel of her around him. His eyes didn't leave hers as they began to move together. Her green eyes blurred with pleasure. Jethro nudged her over the first peak, gripping her hands and letting her need rage. She rocked with him and opened her eyes, staring into his as they fluidly moved together. Jenny tightened her legs around him and urged him deeper and faster. Her strangled cry of satisfaction beat into his blood as they both fell over the edge. He tucked his head into the crook of her neck and felt her hands moving up and down his back. She pressed her lips against his ear. After moments of bathing in afterglow, Jethro lifted his head and grinned. "Now, you can shower."

After the joint shower, the couple was back under the covers. Jenny shivered and pulled the blankets over her, resting her head on Jethro's chest. He grumbled when the house phone rang. "Answer it," Jenny told him, sitting up and pushing her half dry hair back. She slipped out of bed and pulled Jethro's NIS shirt over her, walking into the bathroom.

Jethro watched his wife saunter into the bathroom with a smile on his face. He always thought his shirts looked better on Jenny. He was tempted to ignore the phone and go after his wife. "Jethro! Answer the phone before the machine picks up," Jenny yelled at him from the bathroom.

He heard the hair dryer turn on and grumbled unhappily, answering the phone. "Hey Lizzie," he spoke. "Yeah, drying her hair. Nothin'…stayin' in today. Hold on," he said into the phone and slid out of bed. "Jen," he yelled and handed her the phone.

"Which one?" she mouthed.

"Lizzie," he whispered to her then whistled for Cooper. "Gonna take him for a walk." Jenny scratched Cooper behind the ears when he came into the bathroom. He stayed close to her as Jethro got dressed, and she chatted with Lizzie.

By the time Gibbs returned from walking the dog, Jenny was clearly off the phone since the music of The Temptations hit his ears. He followed the sounds of the music to the living room, and he leaned against the doorway silently watching his wife. Jenny danced to the entertainment center, snapping her fingers and swinging her hips. Somehow, Jethro kept quiet once she started belting out the words to _Ain't Too Proud to Beg_. When she turned around with a puzzle box in her hand, her cheeks blushed with humiliation, but she laughed at the very amused look on Jethro's face. "Puzzle?" she asked, holding up the box. "Thousand pieces."

Jethro nodded with a chuckle and noticed she had his glasses on the coffee table. She threw a few cushions from the sofa onto the floor then flopped down. Jenny put on her glasses and dumped the puzzle pieces on top of the table. He sat down on the floor next to her and put his glasses on as he scanned over all the tiny pieces of the puzzle. "What do you want to do for your birthday?" Gibbs asked nonchalantly.

"Nothing," she responded, looking at him over her deep red, sparkly spectacles.

"Wanna go to the cabin?"

"Maybe."

He shook his head and put two puzzle pieces of sky together, placing them down on the floor approximately where he thought they should be. "Let me know by Tuesday."

"Why by Tuesday?"

Jethro shrugged his shoulders. "Seemed like a good deadline." Maybe he could conspire with Lizzie about a surprise birthday party. It seemed as if a surprise party would be the only way Jenny would go for a birthday celebration.

Jenny smirked and quietly put several pieces together. She chewed her bottom lip in concentration, and she was also debating on dropping a bomb on her husband. Now was the time. He was in a good mood from their earlier activities. "Jethro," she said softly.

"Yeah?" he answered, leaning over her and taking a puzzle piece he needed.

"We need to talk," she told him softly.

"You wanna leave the house?" he guessed, grinning.

She shook her head and tucked her hair behind her ears. "It's about Katharine."

Gibbs abruptly stopped his movements and looked at his wife. His infamous gut was flaring up on him. "What is it?"

"She wants to be an agent."

"What kind of agent, Jen?"

"The NCIS kind, Jethro."

"No," he spoke forcefully, shaking his head. "No."

Jenny took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. She knew he would react this way even though she hoped he wouldn't. "She's not happy. It's in her blood, Jethro. I've given her my blessing and told her she would receive no special treatment from me."

"You did what? Without telling me?" he growled, temper rising.

She took her glasses off and folded them together, placing them on the table. "I'm not thrilled about her wanting to do what we do, but if it makes her happy…that's all that matters, Jethro."

"I don't care, Jen. I don't want my little girl being an agent. Not for us, the FBI, or the CIA. She can stay a lawyer."

Jenny took his hand and sighed. "It's her choice. Her application has been sent in."

Gibbs sighed heavily. He had a daughter married to an agent. Now, he was going to have one as an agent. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the coffee table, placing his hands over his face. It explained why Katie had been avoiding his calls and why she hadn't come home since his birthday. He rubbed his face and looked at his wife. "I don't want her on my team," he muttered brusquely. "I mean it, Jen. I don't want her."

She folded her arms across her chest. Her green eyes flashed with anger. "Jethro, that's being unfair! You know she could learn _so_ much from you! You need to learn how to not be a chauvinist. I would think that you'd want your daughter learning from the best, and that is _you_!" Her bony, index finger jabbed him in the chest.

He slammed his fist onto the coffee table causing her glasses and puzzle pieces to fall to the floor. "I'm not being a chauvinist, Jenny. I'm being a father. I don't want to see her get hurt. I'd die before I'd let anything happen to her," he said, voice cracking slightly. "Katie doesn't need to be on my team," he finished, his voice thick with the feelings he was trying to force down. Katharine on his team would be a distraction for him.

His wife stared at him. She thoroughly felt like an idiot for not putting herself into Jethro's shoes. Without a word, Jenny put her hand on the back of his neck and rubbed softly. "Jethro, look at me," she requested. He finally looked at her with wounded blue eyes. Jenny gripped his wrist tightly, squeezing. "I'll make sure she doesn't land in D.C. for your sake," she told him, still soothingly massaging his neck. "Now, let's get back to the puzzle. Okay? Forget this conversation and focus on me and you for the rest of the day." Jenny leaned over to him, placing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. He nodded his head and rested his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh.

The couple was quiet the next several hours. Jenny knew her husband was still simmering, and it was best to let him be. Gibbs would have to get on board with his oldest daughter's decision. He had made a vow a long time ago to always support his daughters no matter what they chose to do, and he would have to keep his word. Eventually, Jethro settled into a better mood after he pushed the thought of Katie being an agent out of his mind. He spent the rest of the day with his wife, peacefully working on a puzzle, sharing Chinese take-out, and enjoying her company. It was a rare Saturday, and the two of them needed more like it.


	4. The Present

As it so happened, her birthday was on a Thursday. A Thursday when Jenny Shepard-Gibbs, hit a landmark and turned fifty. No one at NCIS had wished her a happy birthday except for Abby, and she was perfectly fine with that. In fact, she was more than fine about it because it was precisely _what_ she had wanted. To everyone else it was just any other day. For Jenny, it was a step in the right direction towards forgetting just _what_ that Thursday stood for. She knew it was utterly absurd to believe that if she didn't celebrate turning half a century old that she wouldn't be that age. Jenny would never be forever be forty-nine – no matter how hard she tried. As she entered the solitude of her home, Jenny realized she would have to return her mother's countless phone calls. After all, there was only so long she could dodge the calls, and considering it was now Friday, she believed that length of time had expired. She smiled, hearing Cooper's paws hitting the hardwood floors and scratched the dog's ears when he bounded to her. The faithful German shepherd loyally followed the redheaded into the study. Her briefcase and purse were swiftly dropped onto the desk. "Now or never," she muttered to herself and sat down in her large comfy leather chair behind the desk, slowly but certainly dialing her mother's familiar number.

"Happy Birthday," Helen Shepard said into the phone. "A day late because someone blatantly ignored her mother," she added in a vaguely joking tone. Jenny could sense that her mother was not so secretly unimpressed.

"Thank you," Jenny replied. "Mother, I ignored your calls because I am not fifty. I've made the decision to be forever forty-nine." There was a determination in her daughter's voice that Helen recognized from years of mothering.

"Jennifer, I did not spend twenty hours in labor for you to disregard your birthday. You're a baby still. Fifty is kid stuff." Jenny rolled her eyes and moved to pour herself a large tumbler of bourbon. She took a drink and listened to her mother continue to talk. "You know what I did when I turned seventy? I dressed in all black. Head to toe. I hung a black wreath on my door –"

"Mother," she interrupted.

"Jennifer, you are being preposterous. Celebrate your birthday. Revel in it. When you're my age, then you may complain. I love you," she finished softly and hung up the phone. Jenny glared at the phone in her hand. She found it remarkable how her mother and husband managed to share the same straits yet carried on most of the time like oil and water. Still, her mother and husband would hang up on her when they pleased.

Jenny stared at the phone and put it down. She noticed how oddly quiet it was in the house. When she left headquarters, the team's desks had been empty. Jethro had cancelled the usual Friday night poker game for a reason she had yet to obtain. Most likely, Gibbs was fed up with Tony and Tim. The two agents had been pranking each other all week. "Jethro," she called out. After minutes of silence and more calling, she concluded that her husband clearly was not at home. She wandered into the kitchen and saw the note taped to the refrigerator. The redhead moved over and read the scrawl that belonged to her husband.

_At the house. Come over._

She took the note off the door of the refrigerator, smirking at his disregard for explanations in classic Leroy Jethro Gibbs fashion. Grabbing her mobile, she hit his ID and waited for the tone to change to his gruff voice, so she could interrogate him as to why she had to leave the tranquil solitude of their home to cross town to the one they hadn't lived in since their children were young. "Jethro, why are you over there?"

"Waitin' on you," he answered.

"What are you doing?"

"Gettin' stuff ready for this weekend, Jen," Gibbs told her. They were going to the cabin for the weekend. He was seeing fishing and uninterrupted lovemaking in his future, and he hoped there would be more of the latter in their Saturday and Sunday plans. "You coming?"

"Jethro, can't you do that by yourself?" Jenny asked. She didn't want to help him with the gear or supplies for the weekend. For once, his wife didn't want to argue with him, and they always did before a weekend getaway especially if she was involved with the preparation. Just like he couldn't fold clothes or towels her way, she couldn't pack the truck to his preferred manner. And that's always how the fight started between them.

"I can, but it's more fun with you."

"Jethro," she began to whine. She had no paperwork to be buried under and would much rather wait for him in front of the fireplace wearing a scant amount of silk. No – he wanted her in a cold, gloomy basement sorting through boxes to find all his precious camping gear. That was not her idea of a relaxing Friday evening preparing for a weekend escape.

"Jen, get your ass over here," he growled. Jethro snapped his phone closed and grinned to himself. He knew she'd barrel into the house mad as a hornet in twenty minutes. He readied himself and patiently waited for her to storm into the old house. Meanwhile, Jenny glared at her cell phone. Her mother had hang up on her and now her husband had as well. They'd hung up on her for different reasons, but at least her mother had had decency to somewhat tell Jenny goodbye before ending the call. Of course, there was no decorum to Jethro's blunt hang up. Jenny muttered numerous complaints to the walls of the townhouse as she changed out of her work clothes. She was not going to ruin a perfectly good suit with basement dust and spider webs; jeans and a sweatshirt representing her alma mater were perfect for camping gear rummaging.

Roughly half an hour later, Gibbs heard the car door slam and his wife's quick, blistering footsteps as she walked up the steps. Jenny slammed the door behind her. She tossed her keys onto the table near the door causing a loud, clattering sound as plastic and metal hit against wood, and turned into the living room. Her jaw dropped as she stared at Jethro. Jenny blinked rapidly and chewed her bottom lip, pinching the inside of her wrist. She wasn't dreaming, and she was not hallucinating. She wasn't drunk either; she'd only had a sip or two of her bourbon before he demanded her presence. He was staring at her expectantly with an all too smug grin on his face. "Jethro, why the hell are you standing in the middle of the living room with a red bow on your cock?"

A graying eyebrow rose up in response to her question. Jethro thought it was damn obvious why he was stark naked except for the decoration. In truth, he wasn't sure how _much_ _more_ obvious he could have made it. Maybe he should have jumped out of a birthday cake. He held his arms out and paraded around in a circle like a show pony. "I'm your birthday present." Jenny couldn't help but think how proud of himself he looked.

She stared at him. His gift to her was something she could have anytime she damn well pleased. She loved sex with Jethro. There were times when she begged him for it and simply wore him out, but he pulled this stunt for her fiftieth birthday. Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. She knew that if she was honest she could not moan at him. The woman had made such a fuss about ignoring the fact that it was her birthday, yet now she was about to gripe that he hadn't made a fuss. He'd decided to give her something she could always have, and in her mind that was a good enough reason to complain. Her husband gazed at her intently as he cursed silently about the ribbon. The material was itchy. He recognized the signs of her analyzing the situation, and the signals were not in his favor. He hadn't considered his gift taking a turn for the worse. Gibbs had been simply hoping she'd unwrap him and find it appealing. He knew that if the roles were reversed then _he _would undeniably find it pleasing.

"Before you get all pissy, c'mere. Jen, come here," Gibbs demanded. The redhead turned on her heel and stormed away from him, muttering under her breath about the nerve he had. The man had finally become senile if he thought she was actually going to find this behavior from him acceptable. She found it extremely insulting that he hadn't come up with a thoughtful gift for her birthday. "Jennifer, I'm talking to you!" he growled. "Get back here now," Jethro ordered, sounding like he was reprimanding an insolent teenager. She stopped and slowly turned around, giving Gibbs a cold, calculating look as she cocked her hip to the side. "Ah, hell," he mumbled. He should not have used her full name, but he knew it would get her attention. The man gulped in fear and threw his hands in surrender. "Jen, I love you…a lot." Gibbs took several steps back as she advanced on him.

"I see you do," she murmured as she glanced down to the bow and touched it lightly. Gibbs smiled proudly until she trailed her fingertip up his torso and to his throat. "You love me a lot…so much that you gave me a gift that I can have anytime I want!" she hissed.

"Jen, I got a bottle of champagne too," he informed her, pointing to the bottle chilling in an ice bucket. In his opinion, that was the icing on the proverbial cake. What woman would not want her husband and champagne as their birthday present? Hell, he did not even _like _champagne that much.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the champagne. "How sweet," she cooed, still running her sharp fingernail along his throat. "Jethro, what's that?"

"What?" he asked dumbly but knew what had caught her eye.

"That," she said, pointing and looking into his blue eyes.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe you should see," he instructed, trying not to grin.

Jenny put her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow at him. Her resolve to be mad with him was dwindling. He had actually planned the night, and she had to give him credit for that. Slowly, she walked over to the coffee table and dropped onto the old couch. Jenny took the small black box and opened it, revealing an uncomplicated, gorgeous opal ring. Gibbs sat down next to his wife, hiding a sharp breath from the feeling of the leather that was cold against his bare flesh. He wished he'd thought to turn the heat on in the house much sooner. Jethro slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Jethro," she gasped. "It's perfect. Thank you," she whispered and kissed him. A smile passing across her face as she looked between the ring and her husband. She felt slightly embarrassed for misreading the situation.

"That's not everything," he told her, 'accidently' brushing his hand against the strategically placed bow as he moved to retrieve another surprise.

"Really, Jethro? We had sex on Wednesday," she responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Dammit, Jenny," he grumbled and rolled his eyes. Jethro was attempting to be sweet and romantic yet she was thinking he was being a horn dog. He shoved a wooden box at her. "Open it."

His wife glared at him and put the box on her lap. She ran her fingers over the box, smiling as she realized that he had made it for her. "Jethro, I'm getting too many gifts to not be celebrating my birthday."

"Jen, open the damn box. After that, you better be unwrapping me," he told her seriously. He was freezing and needing to be warmed by her touch. Gibbs hadn't put the gift-wrap on for nothing. He leaned against the cushions, putting his hands behind his head. She warily glanced at him, unable to hide the slight smirk of amusement that came from the sight of him naked but for that damn bow sitting back on the sofa like it was any other routine evening. Jenny looked down at the box, lifting the lid. Inside, there were torn pieces of paper with scribbling on them. "Jethro, what is this?" she asked.

He answered with a shrug of his shoulders and leaned forward, resting his chin in the crook of her neck. "Read 'em," he commanded softly in her ear and watched her unfold the first bit of paper she chose.

_I love that we're growing old together. _

Quickly, she read another one.

_I love that you're my best friend._

And another.

_I love that you always know what I need._

Jenny cleared her throat and brushed the tears from her eyes. "Jethro," she whispered, her voice raspy and thick with emotion. He kissed the crook of her neck and slipped his arms around her small waist, pulling her against him. "You got forty-seven more to go, Jen."

She titled her head and looked into his eyes. "You wrote down fifty reasons why you love me?"

Gibbs nodded his head and smiled at her. It had been easy for him to think of fifty reasons. She turned and threw her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. Moments later, he felt her hot tears on his skin. "Jenny, hey – c'mon," Jethro soothed. "No reason to cry." He pressed his lips to the top of her head and looked up to the ceiling.

"You jerk," Jenny uttered as she lifted her head. She made a fist and punched him squarely on the shoulder. "I didn't want to celebrate my birthday at all this year, and you do this to me," she complained. Jethro bit his lip and stifled his laughter as he shifted uncomfortably on the cushions. Jenny lightly huffed and pushed her hair back, moving herself closer to him. She covered her mouth with his in an ardent kiss. Jethro fell into the caress of her soft lips and tasted tentatively with his tongue as a low moan escaped from Jenny's throat. He pulled back and gazed at her with loving blue eyes.

"I did good?" Gibbs asked, stroking his wife's auburn hair. She sighed softly and let herself fall against his chest. "Yes. I love you – you big romantic dope. Thank you," Jenny replied, resting her head on his chest. A content smile resting on her face as she thanked whoever it was that was watching over her for the man with her on the sofa.

"Gonna unwrap me now?" he questioned, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Hmmm…maybe," she cooed seductively and looked up at him through her lashes. Jenny squeezed his thigh and stood up. "I'd like to unwrap my present upstairs," she told him, standing to her feet and yanking him from the couch.

Leaning in, she nipped his ear lobe then softly whispered in his ear. "You know, I think we should take the bow on the camping trip."

Jethro smirked, his eyes lighting up at the idea. Maybe he could sweet-talk her into wearing the bow. He let her lead him up the stairs. In the bedroom, Jethro was unwrapped and unwound several times. Jenny decided that fifty was the best unbirthday she'd had, and the weekend wasn't over.


	5. The Sickness and the Disaster

When Anthony DiNozzo entered his home, it was getting past after 11 o'clock. Outside darkness had already settled on the still bustling city, and streetlights were illuminating the pavements for the few people who were still walking them. Sighing softly to himself, the special agent shrugged his heavy backpack off his shoulders, letting it drop near the door. He'd risk the wrath of his wife in the morning for not putting his things away and kicked off his muddy boots.

The off duty agent was filthy, tired, and hungry. The NCIS team had caught a case late the previous evening and had spent most of the night and following day traipsing through Rock Creek Park. He'd had the luxury of Gibbs assigning him to follow Ziva on a trail, meaning instead of a hike it had been a sprint that even the Navy themselves would have struggled to keep up with. Miraculously, he and Ziva had not killed each other nor severely hurt one another. Now, all he wanted was to eat leftover dinner, have a steaming hot shower, and to curl up in bed with his sleeping wife. Tony hoped Elizabeth was sound asleep since he'd called her hours ago advising her not to wait up for him. He climbed the stairs and stopped when he heard a noise. Out of instinct, his hand went to his to holster. He wasn't expecting the high-pitched scream that came from his lungs or the intruder just moments later. Tony covered his eyes and nearly fell backwards down the stairs as his sister-in-law threw an arm over her breasts and covered the rest with her other hand. "Tony!" Katharine shrieked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I live here!" he shouted back and hurriedly came out of his NCIS issued black jacket, throwing it as his naked sister-in-law. Tony wanted to rewind to the brief moments before this when _he_ didn't feel like an intruder in _his_ house. Katie took the clothing and wrapped it around herself.

"You can uncover your eyes," Katie informed him.

DiNozzo peeked through his fingers like a child afraid of what he might see and let out a sigh of relief that his sister-in-law was covered. "Why are you NAKED in _my_ house?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow and giving her an almost perfectly mastered Gibbs glare. Katie did not flinch in the slightest; he should have known that she wouldn't considering she had grown up with the creator of the glare.

"There weren't any towels on the guest bathroom."

He stared at her dumbfounded. "You just walk out in your birthday suit in someone else's house?"

Katie rolled her eyes at the sheer stupidity of the question, pushing her wet hair back away from her face. "Yeah," she answered, reminding him too much of Gibbs. "I needed a towel."

"Why didn't you ask Liz?"

"She's asleep! Tony, can you just get me a damn towel? Your jacket is filthy, and it smells." Her nose had crinkled in disgust as she looked over at him, causing him to be reminded just _how_ similar the twins were.

Her brother-in-law muttered under his breath and stalked to the linen closet, throwing a fresh white fluffy towel at her. "There."

Katie motioned for him to turn around, and he did so as she put the towel around her body. Tony stared at the ceiling, interesting himself in the white paint that had been applied perfectly. "Why aren't you staying with your parents?" He was answered with a snort and a slap to the back of the head. Tony frowned and turned around. "How long has Liz been asleep?"

"She called it a night around 8:30. Not feeling well."

Tony didn't want to hear that. He hoped it wasn't a cold. His wife always seemed to be sick before, during, and after her birthday. Tony always felt bad when she couldn't enjoy her birthday. He sighed and shuffled to the bedroom door, looking back at his sister-in-law. "Order a pizza," he ordered in a quiet voice to not disturb his sleeping wife.

"What do I look like…your wife?" Katie fired back. As soon as she said it, she realized she'd set herself up for a twin joke. "Don't even," she threatened, pointing a finger at her brother-in-law sternly before walking into her designated room for the weekend.

Tony snickered and quietly entered the bedroom. Maggie lifted her head from the foot of the bed and looked at him, her wagging tail causing a muffle thumping noise to fill the room. He patted the dog's head and leaned over his wife. "Liz," he whispered. Tony placed his hand on her side, tickling her ribs lightly. "Liz, I'm home."

"Mmmhmmkay," she murmured and buried herself deeper under the covers. Her husband kissed her forehead and crept into the bathroom for a shower. Ten minutes later, he was clean, dressed in pajamas, and headed downstairs to wait on a pizza. Of course, he planned on annoying his sister-in-law. Tony entered the kitchen with his hands over his face. "Clear?" he joked and could feel the fiery glare from the redhead.

"Hahaha," she remarked flatly. "Pizza should be here in ten or fifteen."

"Pepperoni, sausage, and extra cheese?"

"Oh damn." Katie snapped her fingers. "I ordered veggie." She cackled heartily at the pure look of heartbreak on her brother-in-law's face. "No, I ordered your favorite. Calm down, princess."

"I don't know how McGee dated you," Tony muttered as he opened the refrigerator. He retrieved a longneck from the six-pack in the door and twisted the cap, bumping the door closed with his hip.

"We did not date!" she retorted, glaring at him for what felt like the million time since he had returned home less than an hour ago. In fact, it was all he'd heard for months and months on end.

"Yes, you did," Tony replied. He had never really heard his sister-in-law say much about her relationship with McGeek, but he had heard enough about it from him. Tony was tempted to have Abby whip up a Katharine Gibbs vaccination for McLovelorn.

"Jerk," Katie grumbled. She slid off the stool when the doorbell rang and paid for the pizza. In the kitchen, Katie dropped the pizza box onto the counter and eased back into her seat. Hurriedly, Tony dug into the pizza not bothering with plates. "Why are you here?" he asked with a mouthful.

Katie gingerly took a slice and looked at her brother-in-law. "I don't want to have the talk with Daddy," she explained.

"The-I'm-going-to-be-a-federal-agent-whether-you-like-it-or-not talk?"

"That's the one," Katharine replied with a sigh. She wasn't surprised that he knew considering how the chain of communication went in the family.

"Have fun with that," DiNozzo said with a smirk and took another bite of pizza. He'd heard how Gibbs had taken the news and would not want to be in Katie's shoes. That was, however, a conversation he would love to be a fly on the wall for.

Katie sighed heavily. She knew it wouldn't be a fun talk with her father. Her mother had relayed his initial reaction to the news. Katie had hoped he would have taken it better, but he had not. The wanna-be agent was seriously wishing and hoping that she would be able to glide through the weekend without a confrontation. "What do you think?" she questioned sincerely, peering at him intensely.

Tony swallowed uncomfortably. That stare was nearly as intimidating as one from Director Shepard when she was annoyed, but he assumed in a few years Katie's would be some serious competition. "Honestly?"

His sister-in-law nodded her head. She genuinely wanted to know his opinion on the matter. Anthony DiNozzo may be a bumbling idiot half the time in her book, but he was the senior agent on her father's team, and her father trusted him.

"You'll be good. Not as good as me but good."

Katie rolled her eyes and threw a sausage at him before standing to her feet. She walked to the cabinet and removed a wine glass. "Where's the red?"

Tony pointed while he swallowed down a large bite of pizza and watched her pour a very large amount of wine into the glass. He looked around when he heard paws hitting the floor. "Liz is awake," he whispered.

"Hey sis," Katie greeted when her sister came into the kitchen.

Elizabeth yawned and walked to her husband, putting her arms around him. Tony thought she looked adorable. Her hair was a mess from sleeping, her eyes were still burred, and that content little smile on her face because he was home. "When did you get home?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"After 11."

"You didn't wake me up," she said, poking her lips out in an unfortunate pout.

"Liz, I did. You mumbled and went back to sleep," Tony replied.

Lizzie shrugged her shoulders and kissed his temple. She took her sister's seat and rested her head against Tony's shoulder. "I think I'm getting a cold," she admitted woefully.

"I heard," he told her, slipping an arm around her.

Katie shook her head. Her sister looked pitiful. Elizabeth's hair was tousled and all over the place, and she was already sounding congested. "Want a cup of tea? Honey and lemon?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Please," she spoke with gratitude.

Tony finished a third slice of pizza and made a grocery list in his head. He'd have to stock up on chicken soup, lemons, cough syrup, and everything else Lizzie would need to battle her cold. "I'll go to the grocery store tomorrow."

She rubbed her nose and picked a pepperoni off the pizza. "I can go with you."

Katharine looked at her stubborn sister as she handed her the cup of hot decaffeinated tea. "Crazy, you're staying here. You need to rest."

"I'm not an invalid," Lizzie answered angrily. She hated being ill, but being ill _and_ nearly eight months pregnant was worse than anything else.

Tony sucked in his breath and looked down at his wife. The hormones were flaring up, and he knew neither sister would back down. He decided to intervene before it got ugly. "No one said you were, Liz," he said softly and rubbed the back of her neck. "You do need to rest," he whispered and kissed her cheek.

She rolled her blue green eyes at him. Tony had a way of taking care of her and being protective without being suffocating or annoying. She groaned softly at his hands working out the kinks in her neck. "Fine," Elizabeth mumbled, letting herself relax.

"I know we planned on going shopping, but we can shop for the cabbage another time," Katie said.

"Cabbage?" Tony asked inquisitively. He didn't know why they would be shopping for cabbage. He didn't even know his wife was craving cabbage, or he would have picked some up. Tony was pretty certain that Liz would have told him. She hadn't been shy about verbalizing her cravings and ordering him to go and buy what she wanted. Thankfully, the cravings hadn't been _too_ crazy tet.

Lizzie gave her sister a scalding look as she sipped her hot tea. "Katharine read that the baby is a size of a cabbage, so she's calling our son cabbage."

Tony laughed loudly as he closed the pizza box. His laughter died down when he saw the look on his wife's face. He turned to his sister-in-law. "How dare you call your nephew a cabbage," he accused seriously.

"What else am I supposed to call him? You haven't named him yet."

Tony didn't say a word and placed the half eaten pizza into the fridge. He wanted to name his son, but he felt as if it would erupt into a disagreement with his wife. Tony walked over to Elizabeth and held out his hand. "Let's go to bed."

"I'm not tired," Lizzie lied.

"Elizabeth," Tony warned and took her hand. He helped her to her feet and eased his arm around her. "I'll give you a foot rub, slather those tootsies with Vicks, put socks on you, and expect cuddling."

"I hate sleeping in socks," she whined but liked the idea of a foot rub. Her husband didn't say a word; he was too exhausted to start a silly argument over her sleeping in socks. Katie smirked in amusement and cleaned the kitchen while Tony put Lizzie to bed.

On Saturday morning, Tony left a sleeping Elizabeth in bed and ventured out to the shops – not for cabbage. He called her doctor and found out what she could and couldn't take for the cold. After that discussion, Tony had a mental shopping list that was considerably shorter than he had anticipated. Nonetheless, he planned on stocking up on the things his wife would need to battle the common cold.

After three cups of coffee and two slices of cold pizza, Katie made breakfast for her twin and rifled through the kitchen until she found a tray to carry it up on. As Katie ascended the stairs, she carefully balanced the serving dish and glass of orange juice and surprised herself when she didn't make a complete mess opening the bedroom door.

"What are you doing? Lizzie asked in the middle of a yawn. It turned out that waking up after 11 o'clock and returning to bed a half hour later resulted in falling into the arms of slumber considerably harder. She'd tossed and turned until Tony had hugged her tightly to him.

"Being nice and sisterly," Katie replied, setting the tray down. "Western omelet with no onions. Lightly burned and buttered toast. Of course, orange juice," she said, proudly waving her hand over the tray. Unlike her sister, Katie did not cook; omelets and other simple items were the limit of her culinary expertise. Of course, she lived on microwavable meals and take out most of the time.

Lizzie glanced up at her sister with a smile and thanked her with a nod of approval. She took a sip of orange juice and raised her brows when Katie flopped into bed next to her. "Are you trying to get sick?"

Katie shook her head. "No. Germs hate me. I inherited that from Daddy. Plus, my immune system isn't weakened by a cabbage. Elizabeth!" she screeched as she was stabbed with the fork.

"Stop referring to the baby as a cabbage."

"Okay," she mumbled, rubbing her fork assaulted hand. "Wanna watch _Gilmore Girls_?"

"You know where the DVDs are," Lizzie answered, munching on a piece of toast. After a few minutes, Katie was back in bed and settling under the covers to watch season one with her sister. Elizabeth finished breakfast and set the tray aside.

"Hey," Lizzie spoke, nudging her twin in the ribs.

"Yeah?"

"You know that you can't avoid Daddy during this visit."

"I can," Katie returned in a tone that sounded like that of a stubborn teenager.

"You cannot," she retorted. Her sister was insane if she thought that she could. They were turning twenty-six on Monday, but celebrating this weekend. There was no way Katie could avoid Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"I can. I'll cling to grandma like a blanket."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and rested her head on Katie's shoulder. "Have I ever told you how mature you are?"

"Have I ever told you how annoying you are?"

Lizzie shoved her sister and smirked when Katie cuddled up to her. She couldn't remember the last time they binged watch a favorite television show and had sister time. "Remember how we thought grandma was like Emily?"

"Please," Katie replied. "Grandma is still like Emily. I think one of the writers met her, and she was the inspiration for Emily Gilmore," she concluded. The sisters heard the doorbell ringing, and Elizabeth made the move to get out of bed. "No, I'll get it, sickling," she said quickly, bolting out from under the covers and running down the stairs. Katie opened the door and greeted her mother and grandmother.

"Thank you for the call letting me know you made it in safely," Jenny said to her oldest as she hugged her tightly. Katharine caught her mother's disapproving tone. Before she could comment, her grandmother had her in a warm bear hug. "Where's your sister?" Jenny asked as her mother squeezed the life out of Katie.

"Grandma, I can't breathe," Katie choked out as she was released. "Still in bed."

"Still in bed?" Helen asked, cocking a brow. The oldest redhead passed a glance to her daughter. Jenny had the same raised eyebrow at the thought of Elizabeth still in bed. She was sick, and Jenny never could resist the urge to take care of her daughter.

Katie nodded and watched her mother bolt up the stairs while her grandmother shot into the kitchen. She looked down at Maggie and shrugged her shoulders. "It's a takeover, Mags," she cooed to the dog, scratching her ears.

An hour later, Tony walked into a complete matriarch takeover. Helen and Jenny were in the kitchen arguing over a homemade chicken soup recipe, and Katie was watching her mother and grandmother in sheer amusement. He stealthily avoided the females and darted up the stairs, hoping to find his wife still in bed. "Liz?" he called softly as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

"Yeah?" her voice carried from the master bath.

"Don't go downstairs," he told her as he dropped the few shopping bags onto the bed.

"Why?" she inquired, leaning against the doorway. She was wearing her ultra soft knit robe and had her hair messily piled into a bun.

Tony looked up at smiled at her. He strode over to her and gently pulled her to him, kissing her forehead. He pulled back and stared at her lovingly. Elizabeth shifted in her stance. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Admiring your beauty, beautiful."

She shook her head and patted him on the cheek. The redhead didn't feel beautiful at all. "I'm going to get a bath."

"Wait, Liz," he said, grabbing her hand. Her husband led her over to the bed and dumped everything out of the shopping bags, ready for his wife's inspection.

"Tony," Elizabeth gasped in amazement as she looked over everything he'd bought. He had picked up her favorite teas, bath bombs and bath melts from Lush, and her all time favorite dark chocolates. She threw her arms around him. He grinned proudly; he had done a good job with his purchases. Elizabeth kissed him quickly and threw the items from Lush into a bag, taking them with her to the bathroom. Tony followed in behind her, hopping onto the bathroom counter. He watched her sink into the warm water and let a soft whimper of relaxation escape from her lungs. Tony relocated to the edge of the tub and placed his hands on Liz's shoulders, beginning to give her a massage. While Elizabeth relaxed, Tony engaged his wife in pointless conversation. She yawned and languidly turned her head. "Honey, would you make me a cup of tea, please?" she requested sweetly, hiding the smirk sitting firmly on her face.

He stopped in mid sentence and looked down at his wife, horrified. "But that means I have to go to the kitchen." His tone was completely serious, but Elizabeth couldn't help but be amused.

She nodded her head and closed her eyes. He sighed. That was a clear sign that he couldn't weasel his way out of the task. Tony fully understood why his father-in-law hid in a boat in a dark basement when those two females were in a house together. Cautiously, Tony trudged to the first floor and paused at the kitchen's entrance. It sounded safe. Actually, it was _too_ quiet. He rounded the corner and went over to the pot simmering on the stove, lifting the lid. "Ow!" he squawked and came to face to face with his mother-in-law.

"Stay out of that," Jenny instructed firmly. She placed the wooden spoon she'd used to crack her son-in-law's knuckles with onto the counter.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled and frowned. His injured knuckles were red and would probably bruise later. It was sometimes a dangerous life being the son-in-law of Jennifer Shepard-Gibbs.

"I've decided to change the plans," Jenny said casually.

"What? Why?"

"We'll have the party on Sunday instead of tonight. Lizzie needs to rest today. She may feel better tomorrow."

Tony had no choice but to agree with Jenny. There was no other option. The day was meant to be about Liz and Katie, and Lizzie would not enjoy a party at all today. He busied himself with making tea and listened to Helen nitpick over the chicken noodle soup. For several hours, he toyed with the idea of learning how to build a boat in the basement of his home to escape the matriarchs. Helen had him rearranging the living room furniture to her liking, and she fully disclosed her distaste of Gibbs building the crib for her first great-grandchild. Tony had been in the middle; in-between Jenny Shepard-Gibbs and Helen Shepard was an unbearable place to be. Finally, Jenny and Helen left the home, and Katie left for dinner and drinks with Ziva and Abby. DiNozzo was left with his wife. Peace and quiet except for the noise of the television. He smiled to himself as Liz drifted off to sleep, and he stayed awake, completely engrossed in season one of _Gilmore Girls_.

When Tony woke up on Sunday morning, he turned the TV off and tried to slide out from under his wife without waking her. The task was more often unsuccessful than successful, just as it was that morning. Soon, he felt the movement of his wife that signaled a failed attempt. "Hey," he whispered sheepishly when Elizabeth opened her eyes.

"Morning," his wife whispered, inching closer to him. Elizabeth rubbed her nose against his and sighed. "I hate I can't kiss you. I don't want you to get sick."

Tony smirked and kissed her forehead. He kissed her nose then placed his lips lightly over hers, indulging in a quick morning kiss. His wife grinned at him and touched his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," he responded.

"Check the door," she told him as she pushed herself up, stretching and yawning. Liz sleepily walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.

"What? The door?" Tony questioned, completely and utterly baffled by his wife's statement.

"For Katie. She went out with Ziva and Abby last night."

He frowned even more and put his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. "Liz, isn't Katie too old for that?" He cringed at his question and suddenly felt old. There was a time in his life when he thought no one was too old to stay out late and have a good time.

"You've never been out with the three of them," she answered, mumbled from the toothbrush in her mouth.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. Maybe he should have been more worried about the girls' nights out on the town. He entered the bathroom and lightly pinched the tattoo on his wife's ribs. "What do you girls do when you go out?"

Elizabeth smirked and finished rinsing her mouth. She slyly grinned at him. "What happens during a girls' night doesn't get told," she replied, winking coyly. She threw her toothbrush into the cup holder and cringed at the sight of her hair in the mirror. "I'll check and see if she's on our front porch."

"No! Wait for me. If Katie is, I want to see it," he stated eagerly, a smile growing by the minute at the thought of a hung over sister-in-law.

Liz shook her head. Her husband only wanted something to endlessly annoy his sister-in-law with for weeks, months, and years. She patiently waited for him. Minutes later, the two found Katharine asleep on the swing of their front porch. At least, she wasn't crumpled in a heap on the steps. Tony grinned and snapped dozens of pictures that he was dying to post on Facebook before his wife hit his arm and ordered him to wake Katie up. He dodged a punch from his sister-in-law and turned around, glaring at Elizabeth. "C'mon!" He didn't want a bloody nose from waking Katharine up.

She giggled and looked at him innocently. "You can do it," she encouraged. He grumbled and finally lifted Katie, throwing her over his shoulder.

Katie's eyes popped open from the jostling and tossing. "Oh good God. My head," she bellowed in agony and put her hand to her forehead. "I haven't –"

"- done this since college," her sister finished her sentence.

Katharine fiercely narrowed her eyes and grimaced. "Jesus, it hurts to glare." She put her hands over her ears as Lizzie laughed at her. Tony carried Katie into the house and roughly dropped her onto the sofa in the living room.

"I'll make you a DiNozzo defibrillator," he informed Katie cheerily. "It's been passed down through six generations."

"A what?"

"Hangover cure," Lizzie explained as she sat down next to her sister. "Don't ask what's in it. Just drink it when he brings it to you."

"Why did I go out?" Katie moaned and buried her face into Lizzie's shoulder.

"Poor wittle baby," Elizabeth mocked and put her arms around her sister, rocking her like a baby. She couldn't resist finding the whole thing more than amusing.

"I dislike you right now," she muttered. "Your mom is being mean to your aunt," she told her nephew. Lizzie rolled her eyes and was surprised when Katie drank all of Tony's hangover cure concoction with no complaints. The rest of the morning was quiet since Katie demanded silence as she slept her hangover away. Early in the evening, it looked like a small tornado had come through the master bedroom and bathroom. Elizabeth and Katie were getting ready for the family birthday dinner and gathering in Georgetown. Tony entered and glanced around, clearing his throat.

"Can I get a shower yet?"

Elizabeth came out of the bathroom with a towel in her hand and put it against his chest. "Get ready in the guest bathroom."

"Liz," he whined. "All my stuff is in_ our_ bathroom." He spoke too soon as Katie shoved a basket with his loofah, body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in it. "I don't have a choice. Do I?"

"No, but I love you for it," Elizabeth answered and kissed the corner of his mouth, shooing him out of the room. After dozens of outfit changes, shoe swapping, and make-up trading, Katie and Elizabeth were ready after two hours. Tony had been ready ages ago. He wouldn't complain because he always enjoyed the finished project. Lizzie twirled around in front of him. "Well?" she asked. "I didn't feel like being dressy tonight," she explained as her husband looked over her dark rinse jeans and hunter green sweater. Katie eyed the chocolate riding boots her sister had chosen. She made the mental note to steal those during her next visit.

"Perfect, Liz," Tony complimented and slipped an arm around her, smiling softly at his wife's appearance. "Not bad yourself, Katie."

"Thanks," she returned. Since Elizabeth had chosen jeans, she'd opted for black jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a teal blouse. They grabbed their coats and were out the door in minutes. As usual, Katie fussed about Tony's driving and Lizzie turned up the music to tune the bickering between them out. For the last ten minutes, Gibbs had been on the lookout for his girls' arrival. His mother-in-law had been watching him waiting at the door. Slowly, she approached him. "Jethro," Helen said.

He turned and acknowledged his mother-in-law. The two had been cordial and pleasant to each other so far. "Yeah, Helen?"

"What are you going to say to her?"

Jethro shrugged his shoulders. He had no clue what he would say to Katharine, but he knew the two needed to have a serious talk about her NCIS agent aspirations. Helen nodded her head. She wanted to offer advice to her son-in-law, but he most likely wouldn't heed her warnings. "Be easy on her," Helen offered. She knew what would happen if he erred in handling his daughter; he'd repeat the mistake she'd made all those years ago when Jenny told her and Jasper her NCIS career plans.

He inclined his head in thanks and tuned his ear to the car door closing on the street. "They're here," he informed and opened the door, smiling as the trio came near. Gibbs kissed Elizabeth on the forehead, quietly wishing his little girl an early happy birthday. Tony gave his father-in-law a knowing look as they both glanced at Katie. "Hey Daddy," Katie spoke to her father and hugged him.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo," Gibbs greeted and kissed his daughter's cheek. "We need to talk," he whispered into her ear.

She nodded and noticed her grandmother. "Grandma!" she shouted, nearly jumping out of her father's hold. Gibbs huffed and shook his head at his oldest. She couldn't use Helen as a shield all night, but Katie would try her hardest. The young adult treated her grandmother like a security blanket, and it allowed her to avoid her father until after dinner. Before Katie could escape into the kitchen with her mother and grandmother, Jethro passed a look to his wife. Jenny nodded and blocked Katharine's path. "Sweetheart, you know you cannot see your cake."

"But mom," she began.

"Have a drink. Spend time with your father," Jenny said.

Her father cleared his throat loudly and waited for Katie to slowly turn around. He motioned with his index finger. "With me," he uttered roughly and turned on his heels, walking to the study. Jenny pushed her eldest daughter in that direction and went about her business with putting candles on the twins' birthday cakes. Katie mentally thanked her mother sarcastically for pushing her in the path of her father. She'd been thinking her plan had worked, and those two had probably schemed to make her avoidance plan fail.

Katie walked to the study like she was strolling to her execution. She leaned against the doorframe and watched her father pour healthy measures of bourbon into two tumblers. He turned and walked to her, offering a glass. She accepted the alcohol and winced when her father closed the doors to the study.

"You and I are gonna talk," Gibbs told her.

She downed half the bourbon and refilled her glass. When her father ever uttered those words, she knew he would surprisingly handle the conversation. "Fire away," Katie mumbled and took another drink. She sat down on the hearth and waited for the interrogation just like she'd done as a teenager.

"What are you thinking, Katie?" Gibbs asked. It still stuck in his craw that he had found out his daughter's federal agent desires from his wife. He had always thought he had the sort of relationship with his children that they could tell him anything, but he had been wrong. Being wrong about that notion had cut him to the core.

"I'm thinking that I'd like to do something meaningful with my life," Katie answered honestly, looking up at her father.

"You're not doing that now?" he inquired. The man hated lawyers, but he was unbelievably proud of having a daughter that was a lawyer. It was better than her being an agent and putting her life on the line as he and Jenny did.

"Daddy, I'm not happy. I don't want to be a lawyer anymore."

"Go to a different firm. Practice a different law," he growled. Katie rolled her eyes, glaring at her father as her blood boiled.

"I don't want to be a lawyer anymore!" she shouted at him, her eyes flaring just as her mother's did when she was angry.

"That's what you went to school for. That's what we paid thousands of dollars to Georgetown for, Katie! That goddamn tuition was more than you'd make as a NCIS agent," he barked.

"I'll pay you back for my tuition if it was such a burden!"

Gibbs put his hand up and shook his head. His daughter was missing the point completely. "No. Katie, I don't want you to pay us back. We were glad to send you to school."

"To be a lawyer," she finished bitterly, glancing up at him.

He nodded in agreement. "Don't be an agent. You're better than a low-paying federal job."

"Daddy, it's what I want to do!"

"You do not want to be an agent," he rumbled. "Do you realize what we do?"

Katie nodded her head and finished off her drink. "I do. I'm not a sheltered little princess. I want to get my hands dirty."

"You think you do. You don't. Katie, you don't. Do you know how many times I've been shot at and come close to dying?" Her father paused and watched her intently. She didn't look at him. For a moment, he wondered if she was still listening to him. "Katie, I'll get your mother in here, and you can see how many bullet wounds she has all over her body."

Her auburn head jerked up, and she scowled resentfully. "Daddy, stop." She thought her father was being overdramatic. It wasn't necessary for him to drag her mother in here and expose her war wounds. She knew about them. She had sat in hospital waiting rooms enough times, wondering if she would see her mother again.

"I won't stop. You need to hear it! Being an agent is - it's not glamorous. It's ugly. You won't be an agent," he finished cryptically.

"You cannot stop me from being an agent!"

"I can."

Her eyes went wide as she stared at her father in disbelief. He didn't have that power. If he pulled her mother's strings, then she wouldn't believe her father was the man she thought she knew. He would be going against the grain of his character. "You wouldn't. You would not ask mom to do that."

"Don't make me, Katie. Don't try me."

She put her glass of bourbon down and licked her lips, folding her arms over her chest. "Give me a reason. Give me a good reason why I cannot be an agent," she stated, staring harshly at him, raising an eyebrow and waiting.

"I'm your father. It's my job to protect you. I can't do that if you're an agent. You can be sent anywhere in the world."

"That's your reason? Daddy, that's your honest to God reason why you don't want me being an agent? The overprotective father card is your reason? I know I can be sent anywhere, but I'd like to be here. Daddy, I want to be closer to home."

"Then practice law here, Katie! You can be a lawyer anywhere!"

"Turn your damn hearing aid up! I don't want to be a lawyer anymore! I want to be a NCIS agent. I would think that you'd be proud that I want to follow in your footsteps and have the opportunity to show me the ropes if I get put at headquarters."

He fell silent and knocked back his bourbon. The liquid burned his throat, and he put the glass down on Jenny's desk. He fingered some of the paperwork on the ornate desk and weighed his words carefully. "I don't want you on my team. You won't be on my team."

Katie's mouth fell open. She regained her composure and pushed herself up from her seat in front of the fire. "Thanks for the drink," she muttered and headed for the door. Those simple words had felt like a dagger to the heart. It had hurt.

"Katharine," her father finally spoke.

She stopped and heaved a sigh. Katie thought he'd said quite enough, but he wasn't finished. She turned to look at her father with cold and hurt eyes, waiting for him to speak.

"I forbid you to be an agent."

"Forbid?" Katharine repeated.

"I forbid you," he said sternly.

Her eyes darkened as she glared at her father. Katharine was a day from being twenty-six years old, and her father was forbidding her as if she were fifteen years old. She had to leave before either one of them said something they would regret for years.

"Katharine Ann," Gibbs said roughly. "Where you going?" he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him.

"Are you going to forbid me from leaving?" she asked defiantly and jerked her arm away.

Gibbs rubbed his hand over his face hard. She was too much like him. "Goddammit, Katie! I'm doing this for your own good! Don't be an agent. It's not the life I want for you!"

"Daddy, I am going to be an agent whether you like it or not. I don't care what you think," she lied beautifully. She valued her father's opinion – always had. "I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions, and I will."

"If you leave, don't come back," he groused. She wouldn't leave. He knew his daughter like the back of his hand. There was no way she would walk away.

She shook her head and swallowed hard. He wouldn't give her a chance; he wouldn't entertain the idea of her possibly being a damn good agent. She forced the tears forming in her eyes away and continued on her path to the door.

Her father slunk down onto the desk and watched her leave the study. Once again, he was wrong. The talk hadn't turned out the way he expected. Katie left the house, slamming the front door behind her. She stepped out into the early November air and shivered. In her rush, she'd forgot her coat but was not about to go back in to retrieve it.

"Katie?"

"Tim," she said, relieved. She'd evaded him on nearly every trip home, but now Timothy McGee was her knight in shining armor.

"What are you doing out here?" McGee asked. He hated he had arrived so late, but he had finally made it to wish her and Elizabeth a happy birthday. "Where's your coat?" He took his off and put it around the redhead's shoulders. "Let's go back in," he said, loosely hooking his arm around her shoulders and nudging her in the direction of the townhouse.

"No, Tim. Can we…can we go? Please," she requested. McGee was taken aback by the tone of the redhead's voice – laced with pain and wrought with distress.

McGee stopped and finally looked into her eyes. The tears rolling down her cheeks glistened in the moonlight. He warily cupped her cheek, brushing the tears away with his thumb. "Katie, what's wrong?"

Katie looked into his eyes and put her hand on his wrist. She shook her head. "Tim, please," she whispered.

Tim nodded. He had never seen her so fragile and vulnerable. It only made him want to hold her close and not let go. "We'll go. Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere. Get me away from here, please. Tim, please," she murmured, closing her eyes for a moment. Katie put her hand over his and pulled it away from her cheek, lacing her fingers with his.

He wanted to ask what happened, but he knew better. Katharine would lash out and push him away. She didn't need to; she needed someone. Tim simply let his hand stay in hers and walked her to his car, helping her in and driving away minutes later. Neither knew where they were heading, but in that moment neither cared. She needed to get away, and he was more than happy to be her getaway driver.

Inside, Gibbs wandered into the kitchen and sat down, looking at his wife. "Jethro?" she questioned softly, staring at him. She could read him like a book, but he was unreadable at the moment. He looked down at the candles plunged into Katie's cake and cleared his throat. Jenny stepped behind him and rubbed his shoulders. "What did you say to her? What happened?"

"She left."

Jenny let out a breath, trying to contain the annoyance that was quickly building inside of her. "What did you say to her, Jethro? Our daughter has left. This night was for her. Tell me what you said to her."

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't talk about it. He shouldn't have said half the things he'd said to Katie, but he couldn't take it back. He was obstinate and so was his daughter. His renowned, infallible gut was flaring on him; telling him it would be a long time before peace truly settled between him and Katie.

"Jethro, tell me what you said to our daughter right now. Tell me," Jenny demanded. In the grueling, dragging minutes of silence, she tapped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him. "Jethro, so help me God…if you do not speak –"

"Jen, I told her if she left not to come back."

Jenny's green eyes flashed threateningly. She wanted to yell and scream at him for being such an idiot. He had sent their daughter away from her own birthday party. He had ruined his relationship with his daughter; she only hoped it wasn't permanently damaged. Jenny glared at the back of her husband's silver head, and the longer she stared at him the more her rage grew. She put her hand on the back of his neck and shoved his face into the birthday cake, leaving him in the kitchen.


	6. The Name Game

The redhead caught the time on the clock out of the corner of her eye and cursed under her breath. She had been late getting home from work and that meant dinner started late. Now, she was late getting ready. It all had turned into more than a little bit of a mad rush. She took a deep breath. "You have five or ten minutes maybe," Elizabeth mumbled aloud, giving herself a countdown in hopes she would get finished faster. She sprayed perfume on her neck and wrists. The floral scent hovered around her, bringing a smile to her face. Just as her mother had her signature French perfume, Liz had hers. Her rosy lipstick was reapplied and her fingers combed through the curls in her hair giving it volume. She hurried down the stairs and met her husband at the door with a smile on her face. "Hi handsome," she greeted, pulling him to her for a kiss. Tony sunk into the sensuousness of his wife's soft lips and the feel of her body against his. When Elizabeth broke the kiss, he felt that giddy lightheaded feeling as he always did and his spine still tingled. Lizzie smoothed the lapels of his work suit and smiled softly when she felt Tony's lips against her forehead. He lingered, taking in the scent of her perfume, seductive and utterly female.

"Hey beautiful," he whispered against her ear. She took his hand, lacing her fingers with his and leading him to the dining room. Tony was mystified by his wife's behavior until he entered the room and saw the scene in front of him. He grinned. In the center of the table, white candles burned. Their flames flickered ever so slightly, and the table was covered in a crisp white cloth. The wine glasses were set out along with knives and forks. To top it all off, the smells wafting from the kitchen were divine. His wife had been busy. "Liz?"

"Date night in," she informed him with a content smile on her lacquered lips. His wife knew he'd had a tough, grueling week at work. Since Monday, one thing had been followed by another, and Gibbs was still terrorizing and brooding about headquarters. The team leader's deplorable mood all stemmed from his argument with Katharine and the subsequent fights with Jenny. Elizabeth knew it wouldn't get any better until her father and sister had words. Well, words that mended rather than damaged. Her father and mother had always managed reasonably well at keeping home and work distinguished, but the climate had drastically changed. The line had been crossed, and Gibbs couldn't leave the home feelings at home. The man had taken his frustration out on everyone. "Sit," his wife ordered and poured him a glass of wine.

"Liz, I can help," he said, leaning back from his seat and watching her bustle about the kitchen. She was only a few days over a nasty cold, and he was well aware that pregnancy was making her shattered at the moment. However, Tony knew his wife and although he wanted her to welcome his offer of assistance he knew she would stubbornly refuse.

"No, you won't," Elizabeth replied in a tone that was distinctly Shepard-Gibbs. She reentered the dining room and brought the salad bowl in, putting it down on the table along with wooden salad tongues she'd convinced Tony they needed.

Tony moved and pulled out her chair for her. "We could have gone out," he said.

She looked up at him, shaking her head. "I know, but I haven't cooked for you in forever," she told him with a smile. Elizabeth knew women who moaned about the fact they had to cook for their husbands, but she was different. She and Tony tried to dine together as much as possible even though it didn't always work out. Lizzie felt a certain degree of pride and satisfaction when she cooked a meal, and they were able to eat together. He sat back down and took her plate, loading it with salad. "Thank you."

He dug into his salad and realized how quiet it was in the house. He hadn't heard the patter of paws across the floors. "Liz, where's Maggie?"

"She's in my office with a new bone."

Tony laughed. He knew the dog would be thoroughly distracted with a new bone and would most likely be in the office all night. As the couple ate, they talked about Lizzie's day at work. Once they had eaten the salad, Lizzie disappeared into the kitchen to bring in the main course. She had prepared filet mignon with a mushroom-wine sauce along with mashed potatoes. Tony's mouth watered when he saw the plate. He hadn't learned the secret of how a Gibbs cooked a steak perfectly unless it was coded in the DNA, but he was determined that he would become skilled at it too and check it off his bucket list.

Elizabeth cut into her filet and looked at her husband. She picked up her glass of lemon water and took a small sip, clearing her throat. "How was…work?" she inquired hesitantly. Her husband's face blanched, and she immediately regretted asking the question.

"It was bad," Tony answered as he cut another piece of filet mignon and met his wife's eyes.

"How bad?" she questioned, placing the glass down.

"_Bad_. The pits. Catastrophic. Almost World War III. Maybe it was World War III -"

She interrupted him before he could continue with adjectives describing the day. She had gotten the gist after the first second anyway. "What happened?"

"We stumbled into FBI territory, and you know how that goes. Of course, Gibbs and Fornell got called into the principal's office. Me, McGee, and Ziva heard the yelling from the squad room and then the crash."

"Crash?" Her hands went over her face as she leaned back against the chair. Elizabeth had the feeling her parents would have a catastrophic fight with the way they'd been going since her mother had pushed her father's face into a birthday cake, but she didn't know the fight would happen at headquarters for all to hear. She definitely might cancel her weekend plans with her mother if the fight in the office had been that _bad_. The last thing she needed was her mother in a bad mood while at a relaxing spa day. The time together would not be relaxing and would end in a blazing row or tears…or both.

Tony nodded his head. "It was loud too. Felt like it shook the whole building," he further explained the crash. He leaned over, pulling Elizabeth's hands away from her face. "Babe, it's funny now. Well, I don't think Jenny will find it funny for a while, but eventually she will. He broke her door."

"What? How did he – Daddy broke her door?" Lizzie exclaimed. The first thing she thought was that she was glad she no longer lived at home. There would undoubtedly be tension that could be cut with a knife and deathly silence that would only be broken by a terrible argument. She was extremely glad she was not a Georgetown resident.

"Yeah," he responded, chuckling. "Then we really heard the yelling. I've never heard Jenny yell like that," he said softly then began laughing. "Fornell tried to put the door back up, and it fell again. She started yelling at Fornell, and Cynthia was in the middle of everything. And Gibbs…" DiNozzo laughed harder. "Gibbs told Jenny to shut up about the door and still argued about how we should have the case and not the FBI."

Elizabeth rubbed her forehead and wished she could down a glass of wine after hearing that story. She took a long sip of water and rested the glass against her cheek. She would be surprised if her father was still alive and well. Telling her mother to 'shut up' was begging for trouble. In fact, it was a suicide attempt.

"I got video," Tony announced proudly and retrieved his phone from his pocket. Liz didn't want to look, but at the same time she was dying to see if her husband had exaggerated.

"You didn't," she gasped, taking his phone from him. Tony laughed and moved closer, watching the footage for the umpteenth time. Lizzie watched it all. Fornell attempting to make the door right and the door falling on his foot. Tobias Fornell screamed like a girl. Her mother's shrill reprimand of Agent Gibbs. Her father vehemently disagreeing with the decision. All while the FBI agent hopped around the spacious office like a rabbit and cursing about his foot. Poor Cynthia was trying to diffuse the situation.

It was – in no uncertain terms – a train wreck.

Elizabeth handed the phone back over and was speechless. It was funny, but she couldn't laugh. She knew her parents would take that fight home with them…if her father had gone home. Almost certainly, he would avoid Jenny and simmer in the basement. "Does she have a door now?" she finally asked.

Tony shook his head. "Apparently, that's not something the maintenance guys keep on hand. The hinges are special made, so she might have a door up by the middle of next week."

She shook her head and rested her hand over her stomach, feeling a punch from her son's arm. That would only have annoyed her mother even more. The lack of a door meant that her father could flounce in whenever he wished. If Tony thought Gibbs in a bad mood was terrible, then he had seen nothing yet. Her mother in a bad mood could and would seriously rival Gibbs on the warpath. "Well, I'll have to cancel tomorrow."

"What? Why?" He had Saturday plans with McGee to play video games. If Liz cancelled her plans, he'd have to cancel his plans. Tony didn't want to; he was almost to the dungeon with the big bad monster in the game.

"It will be hell to be around mom after a fight like that in the office."

"Liz," he said firmly and gave her a look. "You know, it won't make anything better if you cancel tomorrow."

Elizabeth blew out a frustrated breath. She hated when her husband was right. It was rare that she admitted he was, but on this occasion she knew that it was true. Avoiding her mother may only make matters worse for her father even if he'd done a fine job himself. She didn't want one of them turning up on her doorstep with a bag asking to stay the night. Lizzie loved her parents, but she didn't want to clean up one of their arguments. She damn sure didn't want to hide a body either. "Fine. I won't cancel," she said, taking a bite of food. "But you should hang out with Daddy."

"What? Hang out? With Gibbs? In the basement? Liz, are you trying to get me killed? I don't have time to make sure my tetanus shot is up to date. "

"No, but it's a good idea," she replied sweetly.

"Getting me killed?" he shrieked.

She rolled her eyes. "No, you with Daddy. It'll be good for the two of you to have man time."

Tony grumbled and complained silently. He didn't mind man time with his father-in-law, but the man had the temperament of a grizzly bear all week. Well, maybe there were grizzly bears out there that were more agreeable than Gibbs had been. He was sure there were. He fought the urge to whine like a child and enjoyed the home cooked meal. Tony pushed a mushroom into the mashed potatoes with his fork and glanced at his wife, clearing his throat. "Have you talked to Katie?" he asked hesitantly.

Elizabeth sighed heavily and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "I have," she answered. None of the talks with her sister had gone well.

"And?"

"She won't listen," Liz told him. She'd spent every phone call, email, and video chat trying to convince her sister to make the first move and to reach out to their father. One of them needed to take a step in the right direction and hopefully apologize to each other. "She cancelled her flights for Thanksgiving and Christmas. She's not coming," she finished sadly.

Tony reached over and squeezed his wife's hand. "She'll change her mind," he replied optimistically.

Lizzie shook her head. She didn't believe her sister would change her mind. The two finished dinner in silence, and Tony moved to clear the dinner plates until Liz put her hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. "I'll do it. Get comfortable, and I'll bring dessert," she told her husband, kissing his cheek. "Think about what movie we'll watch."

He trudged up the stairs and into the master bedroom to get out of his work clothes before they finished off the meal with whatever his wife had planned. He sat down on the bed and took his shoes off, looking up when Elizabeth entered. She smiled at him and took her heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. "You know what we should do before the baby comes," she said, taking off her jewelry and neatly placing it in its rightful place.

"What?"

"Watch all of Hitchcock's films in order of release including both versions of _The Man Who Knew Too Much_."

Tony grinned and walked over, slipping his arms around her waist. He loved it when his wife talked films. In his opinion, there was nothing more attractive. He had found a woman who appreciated films as much as he did, _and _she respected his knowledge of films. "This is why I married you," he said, kissing her neck. She leaned against him, putting her hands on his arms.

"You did make out pretty good in the wife department. Didn't you?" Elizabeth turned in his arms to face him and stroked his cheek.

"Yeah," he murmured, bending his head down and kissing her lips. He pulled back and glanced down. "What's he doing in there?"

Lizzie laughed softly. "I think he's trying to escape early," she answered but hoped the baby would not come early. Her due date was less than ten weeks away.

Tony dropped to one knee and gently tapped against the area his son was kicking. "Hey. There will be no escaping early. Got it?" His eyes darted up to his wife when his answer was in the form of a strong kick. "Was that a yes or a no?"

She shrugged her shoulders and ran her hands through his hair. Her long nails gently scratching his scalp. Tony leaned in closer and whispered, "Are you taking after your grandpa and building a boat in there?"

Elizabeth laughed, hitting her husband's shoulder playfully. He glanced up, winking at her. She shook her head but had a smile on her face. Tony felt more rolls and punches. "Take it easy in there." Liz couldn't help the feeling of pure contentment that washed over her at the sight of her husband talking to their unborn child.

"C'mere," she said, pulling him up.

"Yeah?"

His wife stared into his eyes and leaned in, tilting her head slightly and putting her lips over his in a soft, lingering kiss. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," Tony replied, tucking her hair behind her ears. He cut his eyes to the king size bed, and Elizabeth shook her head as she bit her bottom lip. She gently pushed at his chest, watching the hopeful look in his eyes and face diminish.

"Get changed, silly," the redhead paused to stroke his cheek, "the night is not over," she hinted. Her mouth formed into a mirthful smirk as the hope returned to her husband's eyes.

Tony rifled through the drawers until he found a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt. He glanced over at Elizabeth, letting out a low whistle when the long sleeve black a-line dress came off. She threw it at him and laughed. Tony changed clothes and flopped onto the bed, impatiently waiting for her. He figured she must have been taking off her make-up and doing the rest of her nightly routine. She finally came out in yoga pants and a Georgetown sweatshirt, yawning.

"Stop that," Tony told her.

"I can't help it," she answered, fighting another yawn. She missed the energy she had a few weeks ago. Lately, all her get-up-and-go was zapped from growing a person. Tony walked to the doorway of the bedroom. Unexpectedly, he lifted his wife into his arms.

"Oh my God! Tony!" she screeched in surprise. "What are you doing? Put me down!" She held onto him tightly.

"Carrying my wife down the stairs," Tony replied matter of factly.

"Why? And do not drop me," Elizabeth insisted. She tried to keep a hold of her husband as he made his way across the landing.

He smirked and kissed her head, carrying her down the stairs with ease. The fact that Tony did not grunt at least once from her weight gave her confidence in her a size a boost. After the dessert of chocolate bread pudding, the two were snuggled on the sofa under a blanket and barely paying attention to _The Philadelphia Story._ They had seen the film a thousand times, but tonight was more about spending time together. They were simply enjoying a relaxing Friday night at home. Elizabeth lazily watched Jimmy Stewart and Katharine Hepburn before tapping her husband on the chin. "Hey," she whispered.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking down at her.

"You know what I miss sometimes?"

"What?" Tony kissed his wife's forehead, letting his lips linger as he took in the floral notes of her shampoo.

"The apartment and how you'd sneak over after work."

Tony grinned and twirled a loose curl around his finger. "It was great until your mother barged in that morning."

Elizabeth smirked. "And found you in the middle of the apartment in your underwear," she recalled with a laugh. Silence fell between them for a couple of minutes, but Lizzie's brain was working away. "Tony, are you…ready?" she questioned, out of the blue, causing her husband to look in her eyes and take a moment to realize just what she was referring to.

"For the baby?" he clarified softly.

She nodded her head and propped herself up on his chest. She rested her hand underneath her chin and stared into his hazel eyes. "Yes," Elizabeth confirmed. "I just don't want you to feel like you're trapped. I know it was too soon," she said, dipping her head against his chest.

He was absolutely caught off guard by the conversation, and he didn't completely understand where it was coming from. He could feel his wife's insecurity and that was so unlike her. "Look at me please," Tony requested softly. She didn't move a muscle. "Liz, hey…Liz." He rubbed her back in circular motions. When she finally lifted her head, her teary blue green eyes pained him.

"I wanted us to be us for a while longer," she confessed and buried her face into him again.

Tony carefully sat up and rested his back against the arm of the sofa, pulling her with him. He held his wife close to him and hugged her. "I didn't want us to be us any longer. Liz, the pregnancy did take us by surprise, but I'm not trapped. You couldn't ever make me feel that way."

She put her face into the crook of his neck and slipped her arms around him. Tony felt the tears burning into him. He kissed the top of her head and silently questioned if this was all because of hormones. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered. Tony felt his own emotions become too much for him. He knew it was natural to be worried; it was a big step becoming a parent, but he had complete and utter faith in the woman he loved. Tony knew she would be a fantastic mother even if she didn't.

"Liz, you can. You're going to be an amazing mother," he told her. Now, he understood what Gibbs had been telling him about being a solid, reassuring rock for Elizabeth. "But me…I can't make any promises that I won't screw up or pass out in the delivery room." He grinned when he heard a soft giggle escape from her. Relief washed over him after hearing that small giggle. "Wipe those eyes, and let's name our son."

Elizabeth lifted her head and looked at him. "You've been thinking about names?" she asked and attempted to mask her surprise. Tony nodded his head. "I'm such an idiot," Lizzie mumbled. She wondered if he'd been thinking about names since last weekend when Katie kept referring to the baby as a damned cabbage, but he seemed to be more ready to be a father than she was ready to be a mother if he had been thinking about names.

"You're not an idiot. Just a hormonal mess," he joked and winced when she elbowed him. "Still love you though," he said, kissing her lightly.

"I love you too," she replied, cuddling up to him. "What do you have?" she questioned, curiosity taking over.

Tony grinned proudly. "I have a list. I'll be right back," he said quickly and eased out from under her. Lizzie watched him retreat from the living room and heard his footsteps up the stairs. She sighed softly and rubbed her belly, doubting if she'd get a restful night of sleep with all the gymnastics from the baby. Tony returned with a yellow notepad and sat down, handing over the list. The look on his face mirrored that of when a child received a gold star for an accomplishment. Lizzie chuckled at the thought. His wife's eyes scanned over the list of names. _Thomas, Sullivan, Selleck, Magnum, Roger, Sean, Pierce, Connery, Brosnan, Daniel, Dalton, Craig, James, and Bond._

She cleared her throat and titled her head, looking at him with that sideways glare inherited from her mother. "No."

"Liz! Those are good names. Thomas Sullivan DiNozzo has a nice ring to it."

"We are not naming our son after any characters from Magnum, P.I., James Bond, or any actors that played James Bond. Got it?" She couldn't do it. Naming her son after a film character would not bother her father because he would have no idea where the name had come from, but her mother would know. Jenny had always been more up to date on pop culture than Jethro. Her mother would never let her live it down. Oh God, her grandmother would not either.

"Not even Sean?"

"I _might_ consider that one," she compromised with a small smirk on her face. As she thought about it, she did like Sean.

"I'll take that. What were you thinking?" Tony asked since his wife didn't like most of his suggestions he wanted to see what she had in mind.

"Anthony."

Tony shook his head. "No, Liz," he stated seriously.

"Why not? I thought you'd like the idea of naming your first son after you."

"There are too many Anthony DiNozzo's in this world," he told her. Tony wanted to break the cycle. He was named after his father, and he had a horrible relationship with that man. Tony wanted to be a father to his son, and he felt if he named the child after him he'd have the same nonexistent relationship with his son as he did with Senior.

Elizabeth stroked his cheek gently. "If you name him after you, it doesn't mean you'll be like your father," she said sincerely.

Tony stared at his wife. He never understood her knack for reading his mind at times. Then again she probably got it from her parents. Jenny was all knowing, and Gibbs always appeared right when Tony decided to make a wisecrack about the boss. He hoped it wouldn't mean that his son would inherit the same annoying talent, and the pair would gang up on him. "I don't want to risk it. Besides, I'd hate for the little guy to have such a name to live up to," he joked, shrugging away the negative feelings he had about his dad. "What do you like?"

"I have one request. I want his middle name to be Jasper."

"Done," Tony answered quickly. He wouldn't argue with that suggestion. If Liz wanted their son to have the name of her grandfather and brother, he would have it.

"But…" she murmured, holding up a finger.

"Uh oh," he griped.

"I don't want mom or daddy to know. I want it to be a surprise."

"Liz, they are going to ask. Gibbs has been asking me once a week if we've decided on a name. Jenny's been asking three times a week."

"Good," she smiled. "Tell him the middle name is Jethro. Tell mom that we can't decide because you want to name him after James Bond," she advised. Her father and mother would believe it.

Tony laughed. He wouldn't admit to being relieved that she hadn't wanted to tag their child with Leroy or Jethro. It was a burden that one person in the family and one person only should have to deal with. Tony knew his father-in-law had been named after a great man, but he didn't want his son to deal with taunting from the kids on the playground for a name like that. He raised his eyebrows when she stood up and stretched. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get the name book."

He waited for her and rolled his eyes when Maggie jumped onto the couch, settling herself into Lizzie's spot. "Mags, I know it's warm, but you're in Liz's spot," he spoke to the dog. The German shepherd perked her ears and ignored him. Tony rolled his eyes and nudged Maggie with his foot, and she growled at him. "Don't say I didn't warn you when you get moved."

When Lizzie returned to the living room, she noticed Maggie in her spot and simply snapped her fingers. The German shepherd obediently hopped off the couch and waited for her owner to sit down. "C'mon," Elizabeth cooed, patting the spot next to her. Tony mumble under his breath. That dog never moved for him that easily. He watched his wife crack open the large book of baby names.

"Liz, I think we should let him decide."

"What? Tony, how can he decide?" she asked skeptically.

"Two kicks for Sean. Three kicks for whatever you decide," he explained and rubbed the back of his head. He should have seen that head slap coming. "Nevermind. Terrible idea."

"Uh huh," she mumbled and settled against the couch cushions, sticking her cold toes underneath her husband's thigh. Tony sucked in his breath and moved her feet into his lap, giving her a foot massage.

After a few hours and a large bowl of popcorn later, the DiNozzos had decided on a name. Tony pulled his wife close and kissed her cheek, placing his hands over her baby bump. "Andrew Jasper DiNozzo. A.J. DiNozzo," he said aloud, smiling. "It has a nice ring to it." The pride in Tony's voice was unable to be missed. There was a glint in his eye and a smile on his face. All of which made Elizabeth think maybe they could do this. They could be parents and good ones at that.

"It does," she replied, lying back against him. She turned her head to the side and brushed her lips against his. Tony kissed her fully and noticed the movie had started over. "Want to actually watch it this time?"

Elizabeth nodded her head. Not even twenty minutes into the second playing of _The Philadelphia Story_, Tony noticed the change in his wife's breathing. She was sound asleep, but he didn't move. Tony was content to watch her sleep while she used him as a body pillow. He chuckled to himself at the gentle snoring coming from her. "Andrew, you don't know how lucky you are to have her as a mother yet, but you'll learn," Tony spoke quietly to his unborn son. He had learned a long time ago how lucky he was to have found Elizabeth. Anthony DiNozzo would fall apart without the redhead in his arms. Everything that didn't make sense about him hadn't made sense until he met her.


	7. The Coffee Run

The redhead had been perturbed for more than a week by her husband's behavior, and the lack of a door to her spacious office only exacerbated matters. The door was supposed to have been installed on Wednesday, but the hinges had been delivered to Chicago instead. How the mix up of Chicago for D.C. had been made she would never know – there was a significant phonological difference as well as a geographical one. At low points in the week, she wondered if a certain Special Agent had sabotaged the delivery. Jenny took her glasses off and threw them on top of her planner. She leaned forward, rolling her neck and hearing the little clicks of stress. She frowned as she caught the empty space out of the corner of her eye. The NCIS Director felt downright ridiculous for missing a door. The door was not anything special just cold, solid metal yet she wanted it replaced desperately. It was partly the reason why she was at headquarters on a Saturday morning. Those special pain in the ass hinges had finally arrived, and the shiny yet to be abused by Special Agent Gibbs door would be installed that morning. Also, she felt her presence was needed to make sure Jethro didn't terrorize his team enough to make them _all _quit. Earlier in the week, Gibbs had yelled at Abby, and Jenny had spent hours consoling the forensics genius. She could hear Ziva, McGee, and Tony all loudly typing away and commiserating about paperwork. She hadn't seen or heard her husband, but she knew he was in the squad room by the silence coming from his team. Oddly enough, Gibbs hadn't barged into her office since he murdered her gateway to privacy. She adjusted her watch on her wrist and realized in thirty minutes her door would be replaced. "Thank God," she thought aloud, placing her palms on her desk and pushing the comfortable leather chair back. Jenny picked up the large stack of case files and rounded the corner of her desk, dropping the bundle several moments later at the ghostly sight of Gibbs in the doorway. "Dammit," she grumbled.

"Didn't know to knock or not," he grunted honestly, taking steps into the office and kneeling down to help her pick up the mess of papers and folders. "You still don't have a door."

"How astute, Agent Gibbs," she snapped.

He grimaced at her retort, but he deserved the frosty use of the formal title. The man had been sleeping in a dark, cold basement without a drop dead gorgeous redhead next to him instead of his usual place in an inviting, warm bed with 1200 thread count sheets with a drop dead gorgeous redhead next to him for the better part of a week and a half. Something had to give, and he hoped it wouldn't be his back from sleeping in the skeletons of a boat. Jethro cleared his throat, and his wife glanced at him. The green caught with the blue, and the redhead softly sighed as she looked at him expectantly. "Jen," he spoke her name gruffly. "Can we talk?"

His wife squeezed his hand and shuffled the scattered paperwork into a neat stack, standing and placing it on the conference table. Turning back to face him, Jenny took in his appearance. The slight look of tiredness in and around in his eyes told her he hadn't been sleeping. His team thought he was some maniacal caffeinated workaholic, but she knew Gibbs was just human – even if the man himself thought he could live on Jamaican blend alone. "Close the door – oh right, I don't _have_ a door."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and pinched her ribs in annoyance. She glared at him but continued on her way to the sofa in the far corner of the office. He followed behind his wife and took a seat. Jenny crossed her legs at the ankles and looked at him. Jethro leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees silently. Moments later, he leaned back and rubbed his hands on his thighs then he leaned forward again. She waited for him to work out whatever his words would be. After minutes of her husband fidgeting, Jenny's patience had worn thin. She scooted closer to him and put her hand on his knee. "Jethro," she whispered.

"How do I fix it?" he asked hesitantly, his voice cracking with emotion only she would ever witness. Jethro had spent too many sleepless nights thinking in his basement. He'd realized how inept he'd become at communicating with his girls especially the older Katharine and Elizabeth became. However, Jenny had seemed to become a pro. Maybe he'd become obsolete when his daughters' troubles became greater to fix than with a band-aid and a get better peck on the knee or an elbow. Jenny was always asked a million questions, and he was usually asked one question, "Where's mom?" Sometimes it left him feeling like he wasn't needed anymore.

"Apologize," Jenny told him simply. Her husband looked outraged at her straightforward answer. She bit her bottom lip and stroked the top of his hand. "Apologize, Jethro," she repeated, meeting his eyes and looking deep into them for a moment.

"I wasn't wrong," he declared, softly yet purposefully.

"You _both_ were wrong," she replied, raising her eyebrow slightly as though daring him to argue. She knew, of course, that he would.

"I wasn't wrong," he repeated stubbornly. "Jen, she can't be an agent. She _can't."_

"Jethro, we cannot stop her. She has _too_ much of us in her." Her heart broke for him. She understood why he didn't want Katharine to be an agent. They had lost one child, and Jethro was terrified of losing another. She was too, but she realized that was something that would be out of their hands. Being a lawyer could just as easily end in disaster.

He turned his head and looked into his wife's eyes. Those eyes he'd looked into a thousand times emanated cool and collected, and he was puzzled as to how she could be so calm about it all. "What's wrong with you?" he growled.

She unsuccessfully bit back laughter at the fuming look on his face and the nature of his voice. Just like he had done, she had weighed every outcome of their daughter becoming an agent, but she thought and handled matters differently than her husband. "Jethro, I'm hoping she'll become an agent and hate it – absolutely hate it. That is the _only_ scenario keeping me sane."

Jethro was silent as he weighed her words. He stared at the potted Phalaenopsis orchid occupying her desk. "It's not enough for me, Jen. I see her instead of," he stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Kate."

His wife's breath hitched sharply, and she felt her heart rise to her throat. She gripped his hand tightly and put her hand on his knee comfortingly, urging him to continue. "I'm seeing Katharine on that rooftop instead of Caitlin, Jen," he admitted and turned his head to look at her. "I see my daughter's blood all over me, and I can't stop the bullet."

"Oh, Jethro," she breathed, stricken at the sight of the tears forming in his pale blue eyes. Jenny wrapped an arm around her husband and held him tightly to her. She hated she hadn't known about the nightmares, and she had thought only of their son. Jenny hadn't thought of the family at work they had and had lost. She hadn't known Caitlin Todd and felt like a fool for not realizing how much that agent's death still bothered her husband. He surrendered into her consoling arms and rested his head against her chest. She placed a kiss on the top of his head and ran her fingers through his cropped hair. "You have to make things right with her. There are more ways to lose a daughter forever, Jethro," she said softly in his ears.

Gibbs grumbled to himself and knew his wife was right. He moved his head slightly and brushed his lips over his wife's pulse point. She sucked in her breath and rested her hand on the back of his neck. Jethro straightened and gazed into her eyes before putting his lips over hers, locking her in a fervent, apologetic kiss. Jenny broke away, placing her hand on his jaw. She didn't need to ask if he would be joining her in their bed tonight, and he didn't need to ask if he could. He squeezed her hand and kissed her temple, silently exiting her office. Jenny sighed and ran a hand through her shoulder length hair, pushing herself up from the sofa.

For the next hour and a half, Director Shepard busied herself with supervising the installation of her door. She thanked the gentlemen for their hard work and followed them out of her office to spy on Gibbs and his team. Her brows crinkled and her mouth fell slightly open. Gibbs was not as his desk. She elegantly walked down the stairs and propped her arms on the wall behind DiNozzo's desk. "Where is he?" she asked.

Tony's eyes nearly popped out of his head, his propped up feet flew off his desk, and the rubber band ball he was making was thrown into the air while McGee and Ziva snickered at him being taken surprise by Director Shepard's presence. Jenny caught the ball and rolled her eyes, faintly glaring at her son-in-law. "Where's Gibbs?"

"He went for coffee," McGee answered as he looked up from his keyboard and over at the Director.

"Over an hour ago," Ziva chimed in.

Jenny narrowed her eyes and walked into the area. It never took Jethro that much time to get a cup of coffee. She sat on the edge of Tony's desk and faced McGee. "Tim, trace his cell," she stated.

"Yes, ma'am," the agent replied respectfully. His fingers glided over the keys before they halted at the sight of the result on the screen. Tim nervously cleared his throat.

"Where is he?" Jenny asked urgently.

"There must be a mistake."

"You don't make mistakes, McPerfect," Tony said.

Jenny softly glared at her son-in-law before she stood up, smoothed her blouse, and strolled to McGee's desk, leaning down and looking over his shoulder. She smiled to herself. "It's not a mistake," she whispered to him, a wide smile forming on her face. Jenny took out her cell phone and speed dialed her husband. Ziva and Tony closed in on McGee while Jenny wandered to the elevator. "Where's Gibbs?" Tim's coworkers questioned in unison. He showed them the computer screen. All three watched Director Shepard. She let out a sigh of relief when Gibbs answered the phone, typically forgetting the greeting that was a social norm. "Callin' to check up on me?"

"Jethro, you went for coffee in Manhattan?" she questioned, despite the fact she knew what he was doing there it still surprised her a little.

"Yeah, Jen," he replied and hung up. He didn't have time to be on the phone; he had to hail a cab and go to his daughter's apartment. The man didn't care for the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple.

Jenny glared at her phone but had a smile on her face. She hadn't been expecting her husband to make such a gigantic first step in making amends with Katharine, but she was delighted that he had.

In her Upper East Side apartment, Katie closed her computer and ran her hands through her disheveled locks. She had been on Skype with her sister for the last hour. She stretched out across her sofa, wiggling her toes and yawning. It was a lazy Saturday for her with plans of Chinese takeout and Netflix binge watching. Her eyes widened in alarm when she heard a loud knock at her door. She dashed to the door, looked through the keyhole, and quickly turned around. "Oh my God. Oh My God," she muttered rapidly. "Katharine, calm down. Jesus Christ," she told herself before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, then she turned around and opened the door.

Her father looked surprised that she'd opened the door for him. She leaned against the door frame and wasn't sure what to say to him. Maybe her sister _was_ right. Katie needed to hold her temper and listen to him. "Get lost?" she asked sarcastically with a wink. It was wonderful to see her father at her door. Katharine hadn't realized how much she had missed the man until he was at her doorstep.

Gibbs relaxed and smiled easily. "Took a wrong turn getting coffee."

Katie smirked and stepped aside to let her father into her apartment. Jethro glanced around and took in the surroundings. He hadn't been in his daughter's home too many times; generally when they saw each other it was back on home turf. "Have a seat," she instructed and went to the kitchen, making her daddy a cup of coffee.

Gibbs sat down in a cozy armchair and smiled at one of Lizzie's paintings on the wall. "When'd she do that?" he asked loudly.

"What?" Katie turned and saw him pointing to the painting. "Oh, that. She gave it to me before she told me she was knocked up," she recalled with a laugh and carried in two mugs of coffee. "Here," Katie offered and took a sip of hers.

He accepted the mug and took a long sip, giving Katie a nod of approval. His daughter had excellent taste in coffee. "Katie, I'm sorry," he told her.

"Daddy, if you've come here to," she stopped talking and turned sharply towards him. "Wait, you're what? Did you say – _sorry_?" she questioned as she realized what he had said but couldn't quite believe it.

Jethro subtly rolled his eyes at her making it a big deal for him to be apologizing. "Yeah," he replied dimly. "Katie, I shouldn't have," he paused, "pushed you away."

"I'm sorry too," his daughter blurted out. "I shouldn't have walked out, but I was hurt."

He bowed his head and held the mug in his hands, feeling the warmth. "Katie, I don't know if I'll ever accept you as an agent."

She wanted to yell at him, but she remembered Elizabeth's words and bit her lip hard to keep from saying something out of anger. "Daddy, I can try to understand that. But I want this. I want this, Daddy."

Gibbs set the mug of coffee down and looked at his daughter thoughtfully. If she wanted to be an agent, he needed to know how badly she wanted to be one. He softly cleared his throat and intently looked into her eyes. "You want this like you wanted a pony when you were eight?" Katie scoffed at the absurdity of her father's question. She was about to give him her thoughts when he began speaking again. "You want this like you wanted to marry Liam when you were eighteen?"

Katharine looked down at the floor and closed her eyes tightly, remembering how she had called her father late one night. Liam had taken her phone and boldly notified Gibbs that he wanted his permission to marry his oldest daughter. In that moment then, Katharine had realized how much she loved Liam, and she _did_ want to spend the rest of her life with him. "How dare you," she hissed, her voice laced heavily with emotion. She couldn't believe he was bringing Liam up or how she had wanted to marry him. He had promised he would never speak about that after Liam's death.

"Answer me, Katie," he growled, staring deep into his daughter's hurt eyes.

"Yes, I want it as much as I wanted to marry him," Katharine spat out, wiping the tears away. She looked away from her father and put her arms around herself.

"Kiddo, I had to know how much you want it," he whispered and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against him and kissing her head. "I'm sorry. You have my blessing," he spoke softly into his daughter's auburn hair.

She nodded her head and rubbed her face into his chest as she breathed in and out in an effort to calm herself down. The smell of sawdust and coffee comforted her. He squeezed her shoulder and held onto her in silence for a few hours. By nightfall, Jethro had mended his relationship with both of the fiery redheads. He'd left Katie to her Netflix and Chinese in New York, and now he was walking through the door of his home in Georgetown to spend the night in the same bed as his wife.


	8. The Stars in Stillwater

Sluggishly, she stretched out across the blue striped comforter and sighed heavily as she gave the time on her watch a fleeting glance. She slid off the bed and padded softly into the adjoining bathroom, fluffing her red locks in the mirror and smirking at the monkey adorned shower curtain that was hung beside her. Her eyeliner was still perfect so was her lipstick – she was momentarily thankful that neither had smudged. With satisfaction, the redhead pulled on her boots, waltzed into the living room of the apartment, and sat on the black leather sofa, patiently waiting.

Ten minutes later, a key entered the lock of the door to apartment three, and Timothy McGee entered his home. He had spent his Saturday with his grandmother and planned on plunking away at his typewriter for the remainder of the evening in an attempt to complete his latest literary work – at least that was the plan until he noticed the redhead primly occupying his sofa. His eyes drifted over her, starting with the chestnut leather boots, to the dark rinsed skinny jeans, and then to the maroon Massachusetts Institute of Technology sweatshirt - at least, he knew where that sweatshirt had disappeared to – and finally to her face.

"What are you – how did you get in here?" Tim inquired, dumbfounded. He was shocked that Katharine was actually on his sofa and confused as to why after everything she _was_ sitting there even though they had been communicating more after her birthday argument with Gibbs. Still, McGee was astonished by her presence in his home.

"I picked the lock," Katie answered. He frowned and shook his head disapprovingly. "Do not give me that look. You think it's sexy when I pick locks," she finished, flashing a grin and a wink with green eyes sparkling.

He didn't have a response. It was the truth. He did find it unbelievably sexy when Katharine Gibbs picked locks, tossed her hair over her shoulder, or breathed – yes, breathed. He hadn't figured that one out, and he was lost in his thoughts of what made the woman effortlessly sexy while staring at her in his apartment that he didn't realize –

"Tim, have you heard a word I said?" she asked, standing in front of him.

"Yes," he replied quickly and gulped before he remembered that the woman in front of him could read him like a book. "No."

She smirked softly. "How's Penny?"

"She's great. Wait, Katie…how did you know?"

"I _am_ a Gibbs," Katharine retorted with a raised eyebrow. "Is she still at the gardens?"

McGee nodded his head and raised a brow. "What are you doing here?" he inquired, finally getting the question off his mind. He needed Katie to answer him, so his mind would settle and calm down.

"Do you have to ask so many questions?" she whispered and put her hands on his arms. Her day had been spent in Georgetown hosting her sister's baby shower along with Abby. "I have a surprise," Katie announced and disappeared into his bedroom, leaving Tim thunderstruck. Moments later, she reappeared with a picnic basket and a bottle of wine.

"Katie," he started nervously, eyeing the basket with a slight frown on his face while she just rolled her eyes.

"C'mon," she urged, taking his hand.

"Where are we going?"

"Not far. Close your eyes," the redhead ordered and tugged on his hand. "Tim," she stated, turning her head to eye him seriously, "close your eyes, or I'll make you."

McGee obediently closed his eyes and let her drag him out of his apartment along with the picnic basket and bottle of wine. The two didn't go far at all. It was a trip in the elevator, and Tim felt the chilly night air against his skin. "Can I open my eyes now?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," Katharine drawled as she bustled about the rooftop. She threw a thick blanket down then placed the picnic basket onto the floor. A content smile graced her lips as she put her hands on her hips. "Now, you can. Open sesame."

Tim laughed and opened his eyes. He quickly glimpsed his surroundings. He was much too close to the ledge and fearfully realized how tall his apartment building was. "Katie! We're on the roof! We are on the roof of my building!" he shouted and threw his body against the wall.

"Tim, hey, calm down. I don't plan on throwing you over," Katie explained and sat down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her. "C'mere," she said gently and extended her slender hand. "C'mere."

He swallowed hard and looked to the skyline, closing his eyes. Tim let out a breath and turned his head back to Katie. She simply sat with her hand out to him with an easy, comforting smile on her face. He cursed the things that this woman made him do, easing away from the safety of the wall after several minutes and sitting down on the blanket with her.

"Hungry?" she asked, smiling at the fact that Tim was gradually relaxing.

"Depends. Did you cook?" Tim questioned, smirking.

"No," she hedged. "Well, sort of."

"Sort of?" he asked, cocking a brow.

"I made roast beef sandwiches," Katie explained. He peeked into the picnic basket with a skeptical, critical look. She playfully slapped him on the shoulder making the agent laugh and rub his arm – pretending it hurt. "They're good! No one can fuck up a sandwich, Tim."

He smirked and let her set out the food. It was a simple spread of roast beef sandwiches and potato chips, and the conversation varied between work, politics, and DiNozzo's latest prank. After a third glass of wine, the two were lying on the blanket and staring at the stars, small talk occasionally filling the silence. "The stars are better in Stillwater," Katie murmured, head resting comfortably on McGee's chest and a leg draped over him.

"I haven't seen them," McGee commented. He'd been to Stillwater with Gibbs and Ziva on a case, but he hadn't taken the time to notice the stars in the sky.

"You should. There aren't any streetlights or buildings to inhibit the view. No loud music or cars honking at all hours. Just crickets chirping or frogs croaking in the summer. In the winter, it's even quieter. A dog or two may howl, but it's just you with the stars and the moon in the sky," she finished softly, tacitly letting him know that is when she felt perfectly and fully whole. There was a content smile on her face as she spoke but a faraway look in her eye.

Tim stared down at her as she reminisced about her father's hometown. He pressed his lips against her hair and took in the scent of her perfume – warm and spicy. He lingered on the notes of jasmine, vanilla, and cinnamon as he listened to her. "Katie," he whispered.

"Tim, I gave my heart away a long time ago, and I – and I let it stay broken. It's still broken. It's nothing a band-aid can fix," Katharine admitted suddenly. "But I think," she paused, lifting her head from his chest and staring into his pale green eyes, "it could be put right."

He looked at her intently, running her words over and over through his mind. Her guard was unusually and absolutely down. It was rare for her walls to crumble to the ground; she was like her father in that aspect. Very few people ever got to see her without her walls up, but to Tim, it was breathtakingly beautiful to see an unprotected, vulnerable Katharine Gibbs. Silently, he brushed her hair out of her face and let out a hopeful breath. "Katie, what are you saying?"

"I'd like to try us," she spoke softly. "But I don't want to lead you on or break your heart…like last time."

McGee nodded his head. He didn't have hard feelings about the first time with her. He'd realized that her heart wasn't altogether in the dates after many long, calming talks with Elizabeth. She had given some but not all insight into her sister. He raised his hand and stroked her face, leaning in and kissing her temple. Katie understood his silence and put her head back onto his chest, glancing up to the midnight sky scattered with glittering stars.

"I'd like to see the stars in Stillwater with you," Tim uttered, hugging her closer to him. She smiled brightly and titled her head up, covering her mouth with his. He embraced the rush of dizziness that overtook him as her lips caressed his, and he tasted tentatively with his tongue. Katie gently broke the kiss, placing her soft lips to the corner of his mouth. She put her head down on his chest, listening to his racing heart and feeling her flushed cheeks. Drawing in a slow, even breath, Tim waited for his racing heart to slow. He was glad that he'd found her in his apartment hours ago. More than that, he was grateful that Katie had finally decided to let him in.


	9. The Troublesome Appellation

Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat quietly at the dining room table with various language books open and scattered in front and around him. He leaned back and stretched out his arms as an amused smirk crossed his lips. Gibbs lifted his World's Greatest Dad mug and sipped the now lukewarm tea. He scrunched up his nose and once more wished that he'd made coffee instead. Jenny had been nagging him to drink more tea lately, however he had no idea as to why. It was probably just a flimsy excuse to have something to pester him about, but he'd come up with a plan to get her back for the week's worth of tea drinking nagging. He set the cup down as he skimmed over one of the pages, swearing when he knocked the bothersome tea over. He wiped the small amount of liquid up with his sleeve. In the distance, he heard a dog barking and the opening and closing of a car door followed by a knock at the front door. Jethro turned his head. "It's open, Duck," he called out.

The medical examiner entered the home with a creak of the door. "Thanks for letting me drop by," he said as he walked closer to the dining room.

"Yeah, you sounded troubled on the phone," Gibbs said with concern laced in his voice, gesturing for Ducky to pull out a chair and sit down.

Ducky chuckled softly. "Oh really?" He hadn't meant to sound that way on the phone. He moved closer to the table and raised an eyebrow at the dining room table littered with literature. "Taking work home?"

"Nah," Jethro answered with a shake of his head. "This is for fun." A smirk was still on his lips as he spoke, the thought of the reason why he was doing the reading making him grin like a Cheshire cat.

Ducky glanced over the pages of the books and looked at his old friend and colleague strangely. He noticed the yellow legal notepad with Jethro's scribbling of one word in several, different languages. For the moment, however, he decided it best not to ask.

"Want a cup of tea, Duck?" Gibbs asked his long time friend.

The older man and tea enthusiast looked at the cup of tea in absolute disgust. He picked up the mug, eyeing it critically. "Jethro, this is tea dust," Ducky told him. "I prefer tea leaves steeped in boiling water in a proper pot," the medical examiner explained. "But thank you all the same."

Gibbs nodded his head and watched Ducky pull out a chair and sit down. "What's on your mind?" he asked curiously. He could tell his dear friend had something weighing heavily on his conscience. For a start, Ducky barely ever interrupted Gibbs outside of work. He knew how little time the agent and redhead got to spend together.

"Well, there have been a number of changes in my life the last few years, not the least of which was Mother's passing…then selling her house, moving into town. I chose not to tell anyone this, but I've come into rather a lot of money – far more than I will ever need," Ducky took a breath and paused for several seconds. "I-I didn't say anything to anyone because I find that people tend to treat you differently if they think you're rich."

"Why are you telling me now? Gibbs questioned out of curiosity.

"Because I trust you, and I'd like to ask a favor. I'm redoing my will. It's still being drafted, and I have some decisions to make, but…well, I'd like you to be the executor of my estate."

"Me, Ducky?" Gibbs asked. He was unsure if he should be flattered by the responsibility or saddened by the thought of the day when his friend would leave this world.

Ducky earnestly nodded his head. He had thought long and hard about whom should be the person responsible for his estate after his passing, and he couldn't think of anyone else who would do a finer job than Jethro. The Scotsman had always viewed him almost as a son, despite the age difference not being anywhere large enough. His lack of blood family truly made Jethro the closest thing to family he had.

"Are you sure about that? Don't you want a lawyer?" Jethro inquired and nearly suggested to Ducky that he should use Katharine.

"No, I'd rather have a friend that I can trust rather than someone who hardly knows me."

"Yeah, I'd be honored," Gibbs stated sincerely, moving a hand through his cropped hair.

"Now, what on earth are you doing?" Ducky inquired, no longer able to hide his interest, gesturing to the seemingly academic spread.

Jethro grinned smugly. "Research to annoy Jen," he said and handed over the legal pad to the man sitting across from him.

Ducky chuckled as he looked over the words on the paper and shook his head. In his opinion, it was the type of research that would do more than annoy Jethro's better half. The table vibrated as Gibbs' cell phone began to ring. He peered at the caller ID and popped the phone open. "Yeah?" he drawled in greeting.

"Where are you?" the female voice asked hurriedly. Ducky recognized Jenny's voice and mouthed his goodbye to Jethro, silently exiting the house and leaving the younger man to his own life.

"At the house," Gibbs responded bluntly.

"You are not!" Jenny accused harshly but realization dawned on her as soon as the words had fallen from her lips. "You are in the basement," she spoke in a softer voice, unable to be angry with him. He'd been working extremely hard on his latest woodworking projects.

"Well, yeah," he lied slightly. He'd been in the basement earlier working on his unborn grandson's crib. "Jen, you home?"

"I just walked in the door. Have you eaten?"

"Nah," Jethro spoke into the phone and adjusted his glasses. "Was waitin' on you."

"I'll order a pizza."

"Leaving now," Gibbs told her before he snapped the flip phone closed harder than he needed to. He grabbed his coat and left all of the papers on the dining room table.

Twenty minutes later, he walked to the front door of townhouse and noticed the pizza delivery guy about to ring the doorbell. "I got it," he said to the college-aged kid and handed over the cash. "Keep the change," Jethro instructed and entered his home. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack near the door.

In the kitchen, Jenny smirked as Cooper barked and scrambled to his feet, bolting to the front door. She heard her husband's footsteps and continued to open the bottle of wine. Gibbs entered the kitchen and set the pizza box onto the counter. He walked around and stood behind Jenny, enclosing her in his arms and kissing her neck. Her husband's unmistakable scents of coffee and sawdust melted into her senses, but there was something else. Jen turned in his arms and pressed her nose against the black USMC hooded sweatshirt he was wearing. "Lapsang Souchong?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow with a modest smile on her lacquered lips.

He smirked, impressed with her sense of smell and nodded his head. "Yeah. I like it," he admitted halfheartedly. The man was a coffee drinker through and through, and it was an odd thing for him to acknowledge that there was a tea he liked.

Jenny frowned. "You won't have to worry about me stealing that one from you," she commented. Jenny hated that tea. It was too strong and smoky for her. Lapsang Souchong made her think someone had set a hundred acre forest of pines on fire, but of course it was right up Jethro's palate.

Gibbs poured himself a healthy amount of wine into the glass as Jenny took the pizza box and headed into the den. He smiled. Jethro liked their relaxed Saturday nights of not cooking, drinking a bottle of wine or two, and eating pizza straight out of the box with no plates. It was the perfect contrast from their mad and rushed weekdays. He balanced the two wine filled glasses and took the bottle off the counter, following his wife. Jenny turned on the stereo and adjusted the volume, letting Bob Seger be loud enough to hear but low enough to not hinder conversation. She handed a slice of pepperoni with extra cheese to Gibbs and took one for herself. Jenny put her bare legs on the sofa and stretched out to relax comfortably. Jethro took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "Jen," he spoke with a mouthful. "Whaddya wanna be called?" he questioned, barely comprehensible.

_She_ understood him, of course. He talked with mouthfuls of food enough over the years that she could decipher, but what he meant escaped her. Nevertheless, to prove her dislike of the habit, she always pretended that she didn't understand him. "What?"

Jethro swallowed the pizza and glanced at her. He moved to get more comfortable, moving his legs and letting them rest snugly next to hers. She rubbed her itchy ankle against the denim of his jeans and looked at him expectantly. "You wanna be called grandma?"

His wife rolled her striking emerald green eyes. "I hadn't thought about it," she answered, blatantly lying.

"C'mon," he mildly shouted in disbelief. Her right eye had twitched after he asked the question. He knew she thought about impending grandmotherhood numerous times a day. She probably thought about it as much as Elizabeth thought about the approaching labor and delivery.

Jenny bit her lip and put her slice of pizza down. She picked up her glass of wine and took a long sip, staring at her husband over the rim. "Are you trying to provoke me?" she asked, her eyes fixed on his.

"I'd never do a thing like that," he replied in mock horror.

She snorted and shook her head. "Liar."

Gibbs grinned wickedly and put his hand on her calf, running his hand over her smooth skin. "I got some suggestions."

"Oh wonderful," Jenny remarked sarcastically. "Fire away," she instructed and leaned forward, taking a bite of a slice of pizza. She threw the crust into the box and glanced at her husband.

"Nana," he stated simply.

Swiftly, his wife kicked him, and he grimaced. Jethro moved his hand to hold her feet down. He didn't need to be black and blue from her tootsie attacks.

"Big Mama?"

"Jethro," Jenny said through gritted teeth. She didn't want to hear the rest of his suggestions considering how terrible the first two had been. Besides, her firstborn grandson wouldn't speak for nearly a year, so she didn't understand the need for this torment. She didn't know what the child would decide to call her, but she knew she would try her best not to influence it.

"Grandgran?"

Jenny lifted her legs and swung them over him. She pushed herself up from the sofa, and Jethro hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her down firmly onto his lap. "Nope. You aren't goin' anywhere, Granny."

"I'll show you Granny," she threatened, evil dancing around in her eyes.

Gibbs waggled his brows at her and had that silly lopsided grin on his face. "Really?"

She bit her bottom lip hard to not laugh at him. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, you are a menace!" she declared and struggled against him. He groaned and shifted underneath her. Jenny dug her heel into the top of his foot and watched his face wrinkle in pain. "Let me go," she pleaded. The redhead wasn't going to sit there and take this a minute longer.

"We're not done," he said firmly, tightening his arm around her small waist.

Jenny sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest. She blew out a frustrated breath causing her bangs to get into her eyes. She shook her head and rested against her husband's chest. "This is torture," she whispered, licking her lips.

"MawMaw?" he tried and caught the fiery glare from her. "Guess that one's not for you either."

"Jethro!" she shrieked and pinched his thigh.

He hissed and popped her hand. "Settle down, babushka," he finished in a Russian accent while she smirked, still restrained to sit in his lap piercingly glaring at him.

Jethro laughed and held onto her tighter, placing his lips close to her ear. He smiled to himself, thinking she would be fond of his next suggestion. His hand drifted to her hip, and he squeezed tenderly. "Grand_-_mère," he spoke breathily in French – their language.

His wife shivered from the feel of his warm breath against her ear and neck. A tiny smile graced her lips, and she turned to him. "Of course, you'd save the French suggestion for last," she stated, shaking her head slightly at his actions.

He kissed her on the lips as her hands ran through his silver hair. She broke the kiss and rubbed her nose against his as she caught her breath. "I like grand_-_mère, but you know what sounds even better in French?"

Gibbs stared into his wife's lustful eyes and shrugged his shoulders. Her hand slid down his chest and dipped below his belt, fingers brushing over him and a throaty moan escaped from him. She pressed her chest against him, whispering into his ear. "Emmène-moi à l'étage," she said huskily.

She giggled when he stood up quickly and somehow managed to lift her into his arms without dropping her onto the carpeted floor, all in one moment. He didn't have to be told twice to take her upstairs.


End file.
